THE    UPPER    LAKE,    BIG    COTTONWOOD   CANYON. 


John  Stevens'  Courtship. 


A  STORY   OF    THE 
ECHO  CANYON  WAR. 


By    SUSA    YOUNG    GATES 


Salt  L»ke  City.   Utah. 

THE  DESERET  NEWS. 

1909, 


COPYRIGHT 

BY 

SUSA  YOUNG  GATES 
1909 


TO 

THAT  OTHER  JOHN,  TO  DIAN  HERSELF, 
AND  TO  WALTER, 

THE  THREE  FRIENDS  WHO  HAVE  MADE  "JOHN  STEVENS"  POSSIBLE, 
THIS  BOOK  IS  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 


2090474 


PREFACE. 

STORY  of  love,  in  the  rugged  setting  of 
pioneer  days,  is  the  theme  of  this  book. 
The  characters  of  the  story  move  among 
the  stirring  incidents  of  the  Echo  Can- 
yon War — an  affair  absolutely  unique  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  land.  The  scenes  and  events  depict 
faithfully  the  conditions  that,  according  to  the 
historians — Tullidge,  Whitney  and  Bancroft — pre- 
vailed in  and  about  the  Territory  of  Utah  during 
the  period  of  the  "War."  Much  information  has 
also  been  gathered  from  Vol.  II  of  the  Contrib- 
utor and  from  numerous  pioneers  who  recall  viv- 
idly the  intensity  of  feeling  that  characterized  the 
days  of  "Johnston's  Army"  and  "the  Move."  The 
characters  of  the  story  are,  of  course,  mainly  fic- 
titious and  have  had  an  existence  only  in  the 
author's  mind.  John  Stevens  is  a  composite;  his 
outer  appearance  was  faintly  suggested  by  an  ob- 
scure character  of  pioneer  days;  many  pioneers 
knew  and  will  recognize  Aunt  Clara ;  Diantha  was 
modeled  after  a  woman  yet  living  in  the  prime  of 
her  life. 

Young  people  often  think  that  romance  and 
thrilling  episodes,  for  which  youth  hungers,  are 
not  found  within  daily  life;  and  frequently  go  to 
perilous  lengths  in  search  for  that  which  in  fact  is 
right  at  home.  An  avowed  purpose  of  this  book 


vi  PREFACE 

is  to  show  that  there  is  plenty  of  romance  and 
color  in  every-day  life — if  the  eye  be  not  life-color- 
blind. If,  therefore,  John  Stevens,  with  his  big, 
generous  heart  can  awaken  the  soul  of  one  youth  to 
a  higher  courage,  a  more  manly  outlook  upon  the 
splendidly  hard  discipline  of  pioneer  Western  life ; 
if  Diantha's  suffering  and  sweet  Ellen's  sad  death 
help  just  one  vacillating  girl  to  a  realization  of  the 
dangers  with  which  the  path  of  love  and  youth  are 
always  strewn,  then  indeed  will  the  author  be  sat- 
isfied. The  last  two  chapters  were  written  at  the 
solicitation  of  Diantha  herself.  She  begged  that 
the  "girls"  might  be  made  to  see  how  sweet  and 
enthralling  true,  pure  and  sanctified  married  affec- 
tion can  be. 

It  is  fitting  that  acknowledgment  be  here  made 
of  the  careful  and  helpful  service  rendered  by  the 
many  friends  who  have  read,  re-read,  suggested, 
corrected,  approved,  criticized  and  molded  "John 
Stevens"  into  a  somewhat  passable  shape.  To 
these  friends,  grateful  thanks. 

The  pioneer  days  were  days  of  beauty  and  rich 
emotions.  That  their  memory  should  be  perpetu- 
ated is  the  author's  chief  justification  for  the  writ- 
ing of  this  book. 

SUSA  YOUNG  GATES. 
Salt  Lake  City,  July  24,  1909. 


CONTENTS 

I.  The  Picnic  in  the  Wasatch 1 

II.  Diantha  Forgets  John 15 

III.  "Come  and  Kiss  Yoo  Papa" 36 

IV.  The  Echo  Down  the  Canyon 41 

V.  "The  Army  is  Upon  Us" 51 

VI.  Who  Shall  Fear  Man? 59 

VII.  Van  Arden  Enters  the  Valley 70 

VIII.  The  Winthrops  Entertain 77 

IX.  John  Opens  His  Mouth 95 

X.  In  Echo  Canyon  107 

XI.  "In  the  Valley  or  Hell" 123 

XII.  The  Friend  of  Brigham  Young 128 

,  XIII.  Diantha  Wears  Charlie's  Ring 139 

XIV.  "To  Your  Tents,  O  Israel!" 154 

XV.  I'm  a  Mormon  Dyed  in  the  Wool.  . .  .  161 

XVI.  The  Peace  Commissioners 172 

XVII.  Brother  Dunbar  Sings  Zion 177 

XVIII.  The  Army  Enters  the  Valley 190 

XIX.  Tom  Allen  Dreams  a  Dream 198 

XX.  A  Soldier  in  Distress 208 

XXI.  John  Visits  Ellen 222 

XXII.  If  You  Love  Me,  John 225 

XXIII.  Down  by  the  Riverside 239 

XXIV.  Ellie's   Second   Warning 246 

XXV.  "Do  You  Care  for  John  Stevens?".  . .  .250 

XXVI.  Col.  Saxey  Expostulates 255 


viii  CONTENTS 

XXVII.  Christmas  Eve,  1858 265 

XXVIII.  The  Ball  in  the  Social  Hall 272 

XXIX.  Diantha's  Sudden  Awakening. .  .277 

XXX.  Dian  is  True  to  Her  Resolve 288 

XXXI.  John  also  Resolves 292 

XXXII.  "Sour   Grapes" 300 

XXXIII.  Where  is  Ellen? 307 

XXXIV.  Is  She  at  the  Chase  Mill? 314 

XXXV.  On  to  Provo 320 

XXXVI.  At  Camp  Floyd 328 

XXXVII.  Dead  or  Disgraced? 334 

XXXVIII.  Sego-Lilies 339 

XXXIX.  The  Wooing  O't 345 

XL.  John  Builds  a  Home 361 

XLI.  Diantha  Enters 365 

XLII.  Home,  Sweet  Home 370 


John  Stevens'  Courtship. 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH 


D 


IANTHY,  how  are  you  going  up  the  can- 
yon? Are  you  going  with  me  and  your 
brother?" 

"No,  I  think  not,  Rachel.  I  promised 
to  go  with  John  Stevens.  And  the  very  next  day 
Henry  Boyle  asked  me  to  go  with  him;  wasn't 
that  a  shame?" 

"Wasn't  what  a  shame?  That  Henry  should 
have  the  impudence  to  ask  you  to  go  with  him? 
I  should  think  he'd  find  out  after  awhile  that  you 
are  not  in  love  with  him  and  never  will  be." 

"I'm  sure  I  can't  tell  how  you  know  so  much 
about  me  and  my  affairs,  Rachel.  I  haven't  told 
any  one  I  am  or  I  am  not  in  love  with  Henry 
Boyle.  And  I  can't  see  how  it  is  that  you  have 
such  a  prejudice  against  Henry.  I'm  sure  you 
can't  find  any  fault  with  him.  He's  a  perfect  gen- 
tleman— far  more  civilized  and  polite  than  a  whole 
town  full  of  men  like — like — well — like  many  of 
our  Utah  boys.  And  he's  ambitious,  too;  wants  to 
make  something  of  himself;  which  is  more  than 
some  of  our  boys  do.  Just  see  how  he  came  here 


2  JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

from  England  two  years  ago ;  left  his  home  and  all 
his  relatives,  and  in  less  than  a  year  worked  up  till 
he  got  the  position  of  clerk  in  Livingston  and  Kin- 
caid's  store." 

"Exactly !  And  now  he  is  a  gentleman  in  very 
deed,  for  he  wears  store  clothes  every  day  in  the 
week,  and  the  finest  worked  ladies'  buckskin 
gloves  on  Sunday.  What  more  does  he  require  to 
be  a  gentleman?" 

"See  here,  Rachel,  I  want  you  to  answer  me  one 
question.  Do  you,  or  does  my  brother  Appleton, 
know  anything  wrong  about  Henry  Boyle?  Isn't 
he  a  'Mormon,'  in  good  standing  and  repute? 
Doesn't  he  pay  his  tithes  and  donations,  and  at- 
tend his  meetings  regularly  ?  What  more  can  you 
ask?" 

"Oh,  Dian,^  you  wear  me  out  completely.  Stick 
to  your  'Enery,  if  you  want  to;  but  he'll  never 
amount  to  a  row  of  pins.  He's  a  real  namby-pamby 
man;  and  that  is  about  all  he  is  likely  to  be.  I 
should  think  you'd  want  a  being  witn  some  life 
and  spirit." 

"Like  John  Stevens,  perhaps.  Well,  I've  never 
seen  any  evidence  of  this  wonderful  life  and  spirit 
you  folks  are  always  talking  about,  in  John  Stev- 
ens. The  only  fiery  thing  about  John,  that  I've 
ever  discovered,  is  his  red  beard." 

With  a  half  sarcastic  smile,  the  girl  dusted  the 
last  speck  of  flour  from  her  cotton  apron,  went  to 
the  wash  bench  and  calmly  washed  the  flour  and 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH         3 

tiny  bits  of  dough  from  her  hands;  then,  drawing 
a  clean  cloth  over  her  wooden  bread  trough,  she 
set  it  on  the  kitchen  table  for  the  night. 

Rachel  Winthrop  sighed  as  she  watched  these 
proceedings  and  hushed  her  baby  to  sleep,  in  the 
small,  yet  comfortable  rush-bottomed  rocker, 
which  was  such  a  luxury  in  early  Utah  days.  She 
admired  and  loved  her  husband's  youngest  sister, 
with  all  the  strength  of  her  affectionate  soul ;  and 
she  yearned  with  the  tenderness  of  a  mother 
over  that  indifferent,  self-centered,  yet  handsome 
and  sensible  young  person. 

"I  don't  wonder  that  men  admire  you,  Dianthy," 
she  said,  at  last.  "You're  a  fine  looking  girl." 

"You  mean  I've  pretty  good  taste  in  fixing  my- 
self up.  People  wouldn't  admire  me  so  much  if 
they  saw  me  'off  parade'  a  few  times.  It's  my 
clothes  and  the  way  I  put  them  on  that  wakens 
admiration,  Rachel.  Just  look  at  my  nose !" 

She  stood  a  moment,  with  her  arms  akimbo,  her 
face  tilted  as  she  tried  to  squint  with  half-closed 
eyes  down  at  the  offending  organ. 

"There's  nothing  the  matter  with  your  nose, 
Dianthy,  only  it's  got  a  patch  of  flour  on  the  side 
of  it  just  now.  But  come,  I  must  put  baby  to  bed, 
so  we  can  finish  up,  or  we'll  never  be  ready  to  start 
in  the  morning." 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  21st  of  July,  1857. 
All  Salt  Lake  was  astir  with  preparations  for  the 
famous  outing  to  Big  Cottonwood  Canyon,  where 


4  JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  Twenty-fourth — Pioneer  day — was  to  be  spent. 
Candles  sputtered  and  burned  down,  were  snuffed 
and  finally  replaced  with  new  ones,  as  the  women 
of  the  young  city  worked  hard  yet  happily  the 
night  through,  baking  great  banks  of  pies  and 
loaves  upon  loaves  of  tender,  yellow  cakes ;  cook- 
ing beef,  lamb  and  chickens ;  roasting  young  pigs 
before  the  open  fire,  in  the  brick  ovens,  or  in  one 
of  the  few  step-stoves.  Serviceberry  preserves, 
and  plenty  of  thick  amber-colored  molasses  were 
stored  in  all  the  pails  and  jars  obtainable.  Such 
creamy-brown  loaves  of  yeast  or  "salt-rising" 
bread;  such  pots  of  sweet,  yellow  butter;  such 
crisp  doughnuts  and  delicate  "dutch  cheese," 
never  before  had  been  seen  in  such  profusion  dur- 
ing the  brief  ten  years'  history  of  the  Great  Salt 
Lake  Valley. 

As  Rachel  Winthrop  laid  the  child  in  its  cradle 
and  prepared  to  finish  her  ironing  of  print  dresses 
and  blue  chambrey  sunbonnets,  the  young  girl, 
who  had  pulled  down  her  sleeves  and  adjusted  her 
collar,  went  slowly  out  at  the  front  door,  as  if 
watching  for  someone.  Then,  turning  back  into 
the  sitting-room,  she  seated  herself  at  the  sma?l 
melodeon  in  the  corner,  and  began  to  play  softly. 
Her  touch  upon  the  tiny  ivory  keys  was  very  sym- 
pathetic and  musical.  Waltzes  and  schottisches 
poured  out  in  mellow  harmony  upon  the  heated 
waves  of  the  July  evening.  Then,  as  if  filled  to  the 
full  with  the  spirit  of  music  that  she  had  invoked, 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH         5 

she  lifted  up  her  voice  in  song.  "Shells  of  the 
Ocean"  and  "Rock  Me  to  Sleep,  Mother,"  be- 
trayed a  quality  of  tenderness  in  the  soul  that  the 
somewhat  proud  exterior  did  not  warrant- 

"Oh,  Dian,"  called  her  sister-in-law,  "why  do 
you  sing  such  mournful  songs?  You  give  me  the 
creeps." 

"Do  I?"  asked  the  girl.  "I  wasn't  thinking ;  but 
someway,  I  feel  sad  tonight,  just  as  if  something 
were  going  to  happen." 

"Something  is,  Dian ;  we  are  all  invited  by  Pres- 
ident Young  to  spend  the  Twenty-fourth  in  Big 
Cottonwood  Canyon.  And  there's  lots  to  do  be- 
fore we  go  to  bed." 

"Just  one  song  then,  to  cheer  us  up,  Rachel,  for 
the  evening's  work"  and  the  gay  voice  trilled  out 
the  rollicking  changes  of  "We  All  Wear  Cloaks," 
and  ended  with  the  evening  hymn,  "Come,  Come, 
Ye  Saints,  No  Toil  Nor  Labor  Fear."  Before 
she  had  finished  the  first  stanza  of  the  hymn,  her 
brother,  Bishop  Winthrop,  had  added  his  musical 
bass,  and  the  sixteen  year  old  Harvey  was  putting 
in  a  fair  tenor  and  playing  the  air  as  well  on  his 
concertina.  Rachel  herself  sang  the  alto.  Then, 
with  a  quiet  reverence,  the  Bishop  said,  "Let  us 
have  prayers." 

The  quiet  of  the  night  closed  in  with  starry  radi- 
ance upon  the  little  family,  the  children  asleep, 
while  the  women  worked,  conversing  in  subdued 
voices.  Few  were  the  hours  of  sleep  that  memor- 


0  JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

able  night  in  Great  Salt  Lake  City,  for  most  of  its 
citizens,  to  the  number  of  three  thousand,  had 
been  invited  to  spend  the  day  at  the  headwaters  of 
the  Big  Cottonwood  stream,  in  the  little  dell  far 
up  in  the  tops  of  the  countains.  All  the  city  was 
astir  to  assist  in  the  unusual  festivity. 

In  the  morning,  the  Winthrop  household  was 
boiling  and  bubbling  in  the  excitement  and  heat  of 
preparation. 

"Dian,"  said  the  distracted  Rachel,  "you  go  out 
to  the  wagon  and  get  the  Bishop  to  put  in  all  those 
things  that  I  have  laid  at  the  side  of  the  appletree." 

Out  in  the  back  yard  could  be  heard  the  fre- 
quent small  explosions  that  preceded  such  scenes 
in  the  Winthrop  household. 

"What's  all  this  trash,  Diantha?  Does  Rachel 
think  we  are  going  to  cross  the  plains  again?  She's 
got  enough  stuff  here  to  feed  an  army  and  to  house 
a  regiment,"  this  as  the  Bishop  selected  various 
of  the  bundles  and  bales  sent  for  the  wagon's  sup- 
ply. "Who  on  earth  but  Rachel  would  ever  think 
of  carting  a  heavy  wooden  tub,  flat  irons  and  pop- 
corn up  Big  Cottonwood?  Popcorn  on  a  picnic! 
And  she's  actually  got  a  feather  bed  in  this  pile! 
Humph!"  and  the  snort  of  disgust  ended  only  as 
he  tossed  the  bed  back  into  the  crotch  of  the 
young  apple  tree. 

"Now,  Appleton,  that  bed  must  go,  so  just  do  be 
good  and  let's  not  waste  time  this  way.  Here ;  it 
can  go  right  on  top  of  the  boxes  and  we'll  have  it 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH        7 

handy  for  the  children  to  sit  on,"  Dian  worked  as 
she  talked,  for  she  knew  how  little  value  to  attach 
to  the  warmth  of  her  brother  on  such  occasions. 
"Here,  Harvey,  pack  that  shovel  into  the  crevice 
there,  will  you?" 

"Shovels  on  a  picnic !  Does  she  think  we  are  go- 
ing to  locate  mines?  And  rakes!  My  soul,  but 
we  will  never  get  up  the  canyon  with  this  load. 
You'll  all  have  to  walk,  I'll  tell  you  that." 

"All  but  the  baby  and  Rachel,  Appleton.  I  am 
going  to  ride  in  John  Stevens'  wagon,  with  Aunt 
Clara  and  Ellie  Tyler." 

"Is  that  so,  Dian?  Well,  that's  fine."  And  in 
the  pleasure  of  this  announcement,  the  Bishop 
stowed  away  most  of  the  things  awaiting  their 
turn  on  the  grass. 

"Salt !  Why,  Dian,  there's  twenty  pounds  of  salt 
in  this  sack,"  and  the  Bishop  fairly  shouted  in  as- 
tonishment. "Salt  by  the  bushel!  Does  Rachel 
imagine  we  are  going  out  to  pickle  meat?  There's 
salt  enough  for  three  thousand  people,  to  last  them 
a  week." 

"Exactly,  Appleton ;  you  know  well  enough  that 
other  people  forget  things,  and  Rachel  has  to  be 
general  commissary  for  the  crowd,"  calmly  replied 
her  unmoved  defender. 

"Upon  my  word !  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  to  be 
made  a  general  pack-horse  to  carry  all  the  forgot- 
ten things  for  other  people?" 

"Appleton,"  this  was  said  skilfully,  and  by  way 


8  JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

of  diversion,  "are  we  to  have  a  dancing  pavilion 
up  there?" 

"Two  of  them,  Dian.  And  I  don't  want  you 
sky-larking  off  with  all  the  young  men  in  the  com- 
pany, if  you  are  to  go  with  John  Stevens.  You 
won't  get  another  chance  like  John,  let  me  tell  you. 
A  member  of  the  legislature,  a  man  without  fault 
or  blemish,  and  as  good  as  God  ever  made  a  man." 

"There's  the  rub,  brother.  I'm  not  good  enough 
for  such  a  paragon.  And  I  don't  like  paragons." 

"You're  an  obstinate  girl,  Diantha." 

The  girl  laughed  merrily,  now  that  she  had 
diverted  the  attention  of  her  irascible  brother  to 
herself,  for  he  had  packed  away  even  the  despised 
salt,  and  was  putting  in  the  tent  poles  and  tents  on 
top  of  the  other  bulky  but  light  loading,  while  they 
were  talking. 

"Come,  Rachel,  we're  all  done.  What  are  you 
laughing  about?"  sang  out  the  Bishop.  "Are 
you  ready  to  start?" 

His  wife  emerged  from  the  house,  all  smiles,  and 
with  a  cup  of  cool  buttermilk  to  refresh  the  weary 
husband,  who  had  dealt  so  generously  with  her 
packing  arrangements. 

"Thank  you,  Dian,"  she  said  softly,  as  the  girl 
hurried  into  the  house  to  complete  her  own  prep- 
arations. 

It  was  in  the  early  afternoon  of  that  day,  when 
a  double  team — the  wagon  fitted  with  bows,  but 
the  cover  folded  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon  box — 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH         9 

drew  up  to  the  Winthrop  house  with  great  dash 
and  clatter..  Four  good  spring  seats  rattled  emp- 
tily as  the  driver  threw  on  his  brake  and  gave  a 
loud  "Hello"  to  the  people  inside. 

The  front  door  opened  and  Bishop  Winthrop 
came  out. 

"Dian  will  be  ready  in  a  moment,  John.    I  an 
glad  she  is  going  with  you,  for  I  know  you'll  take 
good  care  of  her." 

"Just  as  good  as  she'll  let  me,"  the  young  man 
smiled  down  at  his  friend. 

"Oh,  Dianthy's  all  right,  only  she's  a  little  high- 
spirited.  Give  her  plenty  of  time,  John;  you  can 
afford  to  wait,"  said  the  elder  man,  in  confidential 
tones. 

At  that  moment  Diantha  herself  came  out  with 
her  two  nieces,  and  looking  at  the  empty  seats,  she 
asked,  "Where's  Ellen  Tyler  going  to  ride?  I'll 
sit  with  her." 

"All  right,"  answered  the  young  man  calmly 
"Only  you'll  have  to  sit  three  in  a  seat,  as  Charlie 
Rose  put  that  middle  seat  in  for  himself  and 
Ellen." 

John  sat  patiently  waiting  for  the  girl  to  make 
up  her  mind,  and  not  offering  to  assist  her  in.  Per- 
haps his  horses  were  fractious.  At  any  rate,  he 
sat  watching  them,  now  and  then  flicking  a  fly 
from  them,  apparently  indifferent  as  to  the  result 
of  the  girl's  decision. 

"I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  ride  in  front,  then," 


10         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Dian  murmured,  and  began  climbing  over  the 
wheel,  "although  I  like  to  be  invited  to  sit  by 
young  men." 

"You  may  sit  on  the  back  seat  if  you  want  to, 
and  let  either  Aunt  Clara  or  Tom  Allen  or  either 
of  the  two  little  girls,  Lucy  or  Josephine,  sit  here," 
said  John,  as  he  smiled  down  into  her  averted  face, 
his  gray  eyes  flashing  with  suppressed  amuse- 
ment. 

"No,  thank  you.  I've  had  trouble  enough  to 
get  where  I  am,  without  any  help ;  I  don't  care  to 
climb  any  more.  Get  in,  girls,"  she  added. 

"Where  are  you  going  now,  John?"  asked  Dian- 
tha,  as  they  drove  off  at  last. 

"For  the  rest  of  the  folks ;"  and  away  they  clat- 
tered and  rattled,  the  horses  requiring  careful 
handling,  they  were  so  full  of  eager  life. 

John  drove  rapidly  to  the  home  of  Aunt  Clara 
Tyler,  where  he  was  to  find  the  others  of  his  party. 

A  moment's  wait,  and  then  Ellen  Tyler  came 
out,  followed  by  the  others.  Her  brown  curls 
fell  from  under  the  white  sunbonnet  which  sur- 
rounded her  face  like  a  ruffled  halo.  The  delicate 
cream  of  her  skin  but  made  the  glowing  brown 
eyes  and  the  scarlet  lips  the  lovelier  by  contrast. 
Her  pretty  teeth  gleamed  through  the  curved 
line  of  parted  lips  as  she  .bounded  smiling- 
ly down  the  flower-bordered  path.  She  had  a 
great  bunch  of  spice  pinks  and  blue  bachelor  but- 
tons in  her  hand,  and  as  she  reached  the  wagon 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH       11 

she  threw  the  blue  blossoms  into  Dian's  lap,  say- 
ing gleefully,  "These  belong  to  you,  Dian." 

"Why?"  cried  out  Charlie  Rose,  who  stood  wait- 
ing for  his  partner,  at  the  wheel,  "do  you  think 
Dian  is  destined  to  be  a  blue-stocking  or  will  she 
marry  an  old  bachelor?"  and  the  young  man 
sprang  gracefully  to  assist  Ellen  to  her  place. 

"Dian's  never  blue  herself,  and  so  she  may  have 
my  bluest  flowers,"  said  Ellen,  as  she  leaned  over 
the  seat  to  give  her  friend  a  good-morning  kiss. 

Fat  and  jolly  Tom  Allen  had  thoughtfully 
brought  out  a  chair  on  which  stout  and  kindly 
Aunt  Clara  could  climb  safely  into  the  back  seat 
with  him.  Lucy  Winthrop  and  Josephine  Ty- 
ler, as  inseparable  childish  friends,  occupied  the 
other  seat. 

Soon  all  were  seated ;  the  plethoric  baskets  were 
disposed  of;  and  the  merry  party  dashed  through 
the  tree-bordered  streets,  John  Stevens  managing 
his  double  team  with  the  skill  of  long  practice. 

Just  at  the  edge  of  the  town  a  young  man 
galloped  up  on  horse-back,  and  raised  his  straw 
hat  gracefully  to  the  ladies,  reined  in  his  borse 
near  Diantha  Winthrop,  and  sat  on  his  trotting 
steed  in  true  English  style.  Diantha  greeted  the 
young  man  as  Brother  Boyle;  and  at  once  gayly 
devoted  her  attention  to  him,  ignoring  her  partner, 
John  Stevens,  with  girlish  obliviousness. 

There  was  a  great  clattering  of  wheels  and 
many  gay  jests,  with  gusts  of  youthful  laughter 


12         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

floating  out  from  that  wagon-load  of  happy  hilar- 
ity. The  placid  Aunt  Clara  Tyler  looked  on  from 
her  vantage  point  in  the  back  seat,  with  sympa- 
thetic companionship.  They  overtook  and  passed 
scores  and  hundreds  of  teams,  all  traveling  in  the 
same  direction.  And  each  party  was  given,  as 
they  passed,  the  greetings  of  long  friendships  and 
mutual  pleasures- 

When  they  reached  the  rendezvous  at  the  mouth 
of  Big  Cottonwood  Canyon,they  found  the  narrow 
passageway  between  the  hills  looking  like  a  tented 
field.  Out  in  the  open  square  of  the  regulated 
camp,  the  strains  of  "Uncle"  Dimick  Hunting- 
ton's  Martial  Band  saluted  the  ears  with  tingling 
effect,  as  the  fifes  piped  out  shrilly  the  melody  of 
"The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me." 

Charlie  Rose  assisted  Aunt  Clara  and  Ellen  to 
alight,  while  he  sang  in  merry  accompaniment  the 
words  of  the  song.  Ellie's  own  dancing  feet  were 
tripping,  almost  before  she  touched  the  green- 
sward; and  Charlie  seized  her  hands  and  together 
they  flew  and  pirouetted  and  bowed  and  danced  to 
the  strains  of  that  inspiring  sound. 

Henry  Boyle,  who  was  off  his  horse  before  the 
party  halted,  quickly  appropriated  Dian's  willing 
fingers,  and  together  they  tripped  in  all  the  gay 
disorder  of  impromptu  dancing  over  the  open 
square,  as  the  music  shrilled  and  floated  out  on 
the  cool,  canyon  breeze. 

Even  Aunt  Clara's  feet  tingled  with  the  sound ; 


THE  PIC-NIC  IN  THE  WASATCH       13 

but  she  refused  to  accept  jolly  Tom  Allen's  invita- 
tion to  join  the  merry  throng  now  quickly  gather- 
ing on  the  sward,  for  she  was  very  stout ;  but  she 
smiled  sympathetically  into  John's  face  as  he 
glanced  quizzically  at  his  own  partner  now  whisk- 
ing away  merily  with  another,  and  at  his  associate 
youths  who  had  left  to  him  all  the  labor  of  un- 
hitching and  preparing  camp  for  the  night.  But 
John  was  not  a  dancing  man.  He  cared  little 
that  he  was  left  alone.  His  animals  were  very  dear 
to  him;  for  his  lonely  domestic  life  had  brought 
him  in  close  association  with  the  dumb  beasts 
that  carried  him  over  trackless  plains  and  moun- 
tain peaks. 

Soon  the  word  went  forth  that  President  Young 
was  approaching  the  rendezvous,  and  all  hastened 
to  greet  their  friend  and  leader.  As  his  buggy, 
driven  rapidly  through  the  dusty  road,  came  in 
sight,  the  Nauvoo  Band  poured  forth  its  brass 
blare  of  welcome ;  the  boys  pulled  off  their  hats ; 
the  girls  waved  sunbonnets ;  and  the  whole  group 
stood  at  attention,  with  affectionate  greetings 
written  upon  their  smiling  faces,  and  waving  their 
hands,  to  welcome  Brigham  Young — Governor, 
President,  friend,  and  brother. 

Thereafter  followed  the  peaceable  family  of 
Bishop  Winthrop.  Comforted  and  rested  by  the 
soothing  assurance  that  wife  and  children  were 
well  and  with  him,  and  that  his  precious  young 
sister,  Diantha,  was  for  once  in  the  care  and 


14         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

company  of  the  man  he  loved  best  on  earth,  Bish- 
op Winthrop  had  driven  his  light  spring  wagon 
joyfully,  and  withal  as  rapidly  as  his  farm  horses 
would  permit,  in  the  wake  of  the  President  and 
his  immediate  family,  with  Rachael  and  babe 
crooning  happily  beside  him,  and  the  merry 
youngsters  behind,  who  were  too  interested  in 
the  gigantic  picnic  before  them  even  to  indulge 
in  a  childish  squabble. 

At  late  sunset,  the  bugle  sent  forth  its  insistent 
call  for  silence.  Rapidly  the  company  of  over 
three  thousand  souls,  encamped  for  the  night  be- 
side the  brawling  Big  Cottonwood  stream,  gath- 
ered in  one  glowing  mass  of  color  and  motion. 
Then  youth  and  age  knelt  reverently  on  the  sward, 
while  devotions  were  offered  to  the  kind  Provi- 
dence which  had  permitted  them  to  begin  their 
long-planned  festivity. 

An  hour  after  the  evening  service  was  over, 
the  pleasure  seekers  had  retired  into  wagons  and 
tents,  and  the  silence  of  the  peaceful  hills  brooded 
over  the  encampment. 


II. 

DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN 

HE  next  morning  at  daybreak,  the  party 
began  the  long  steady  climb  amidst  crags 
and  pine  covered  hills,  up  through  the 
rocky  windings  of  "The  Stairs,"  and 
still  up.  The  party  laughed,  sang,  walked, 
climbed,  or  rested  for  a  moment  beside  the  churn- 
ing, foaming  mountain  stream  or  beneath  the 
shadowing  pine  trees  which  bordered  the  newly 
made  road.  As  the  long  cavalcade  wound  in 
and  out  between  the  hills,  the  two  girls  in 
the  wagon  drawn  by  John  Stevens'  spirited  horses, 
sang  and  laughed  in  gayest  abandon.  Aunt 
Clara's  eyes  were  full  of  tender  gratitude  for  such 
happiness,  for  she  had  known  the  sorrows  of  many 
mobbings  and  drivings. .  This  haven  of  peace  and 
joyous  plenty  was  a  foretaste  of  heaven  to  the 
faithful  heart  which  had  braved  more  than  the 
persecution  of  strangers;  for  Aunt  Clara  had  left 
home,  parents,  and  all  she  held  dear  for  the  sake 
of  that  Gospel  which  spelled  Truth  and  Life  Ev- 
erlasting to  its  faithful  votaries. 

"Oh,  John,"  cried  Diantha  at  last,  "You  must 
let  Ellie  and  me  walk;  I  just  can't  resist  the 
pleading  call  of  those  gorgeous  flowers.  Blue- 
bells, and  red-bells — and  oh,  the  exquisite  colum- 


16         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

bines!  Look,  Ellie,  look!  Stop,  John,  stop!  El- 
lie  and  I  will  walk." 

John  himself  was  walking  beside  his  team  up 
the  heavy,  seemingly  never-ending  grade  of  that 
twenty  mile  ascent,  while  Tom  Allen  and  Charlie 
Rose  placed  an  occasional  block  under  the  wheels 
or  stood  upon  them,  while  the  panting  horses 
rested  for  a  moment. 

"Here  you  are,"  called  Charlie,  as  he  heard 
Dian's  plea,  "  'my  waiting  arms  will  hold  you,' " 
and  he  held  out  his  arms  in  mock  pleading. 

"Aunt  Clara's  lips  will  scold  you,"  jeered  Dian 
as  she  climbed  safely  down  on  the  other  side.  But 
Ellen  jumped  gayly  into  the  grasp  of  the  waiting 
cavalier,  whose  modest  action  in  placing  her  gent- 
ly on  the  hillside  belied  his  bombastic  appeal. 

"Spirit  of  the  hills,  descend  and  greet, 
The  pressing  of  her  eager  feet," 

sang  Charlie  as  he  followed  the  flying  girls,  gay- 
ly improvising  his  boyish  madrigals  to  meet  each 
incident  of  the  day. 

The  girls  climbed  from  point  to  point,  always 
going  upward,  but  keeping  out  of  the  way  of  pass- 
ing teams.  Their  arms  were  soon  filled  with  the 
blooms  of  riotous  colors  and  perfume  which  in- 
toxicated them  with  the  blush  and  glory  of  the 
color  song  of  peak  and  mountain  vale. 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  17 

"Her  spicy  cheeks  were  red  with  bloom, 
Her  colored  breath  was  panting; 
As  with  a  thousand  flowers  of  June — " 

Charlie  paused  to  block  the  wheel,  and  Diantha 
finished  his  doggerel  for  him, 

"She  mocked  at  Charlie's  ranting." 

and  Aunt  Clara  who  felt  faint  herself  from  the 
rarified  air  that  they  were  all  conscious  of,  looked 
anxiously  at  the  somewhat  delicate  frame  of  her 
foster-daughter. 

"Tom,  I  believe  you,  too,  are  uncomfortable." 

Tom  Allen  was  almost  speechless,  for  his  bulky 
form  was  nearly  overcome  with  the  constant 
climbing ;  but  he  would  not  betray  the  fact  to  the 
scorn  of  Charlie  Rose:  for  Tom  dreaded  to  be 
teased  quite  as  much  as  he  loved  to  tease  others. 
So  he  quieted  his  panting  breath  to  say,  "Aunt 
Clara,  I  think  I  heard  some  one  say  you  had 
some  doughnuts  in  one  of  those  baskets;  where 
could  we  find  a  better  place  to  eat  our  frugal 
meal  than  beside  this  purling  stream." 

"Just  a  mile  or  so,  more,"  interposed  John 
Stevens.  "We  are  almost  there;  can't  you  exer- 
cise patience  for  another  hour?" 

At  that  moment,  however,  word  was  passed 
down  the  line  that  all  would  pause  half  an  hour  to 
rest  animals  and  men. 


18         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

The  cavalcade  had  passed  the  two  lower  saw- 
mills, with  the  roomy  cabins  decorated  with  wav- 
ing flags.  Now  they  halted  beside  the  third  and 
last  mill,  nestled  in  the  crevice  of  the  canyon.  Its 
buzzing  industry  was  stilled  for  this  wondrous 
day,  while  the  workmen  and  their  families  gath- 
ered in  the  grassy  space  to  meet  and  welcome  the 
company.  For  their  pleasure  they  had  not  only 
made  the  last  five  miles  of  that  difficult  road  into 
the  vale  of  the  Silver  Lake,  just  above,  but  had 
also  erected  three  spacious  boweries  with  com- 
fortable floors  and  seats  to  accommodate  the  gay 
revelers. 

Everybody  seemed  moved  wjith  a  common 
impulse  for  "doughnuts;"  for  the  President  him- 
self, as  he  halted  at  the  "saw-mill,"  stepped  up 
to  Aunt  Clara  Tyler  and  accepted  courteously 
her  offer  of  fried  cakes. 

The  impatient  girls  were  glad,  nevertheless, 
when  the  half-hour  was  over,  and  they  could  once 
more  resume  their  places  in  the  wagon  for  the 
final  steep  climb  to  the  place  of  destination.  When 
they  mounted  the  last  summit  of  that  low  northern 
rim  encircling  the  valley  of  their  desire,  both  girl- 
ish throats  were  at  once  filled  with  excited  excla- 
mations of  delight,  as  the  fairy  scene  burst  upon 
their  view. 

An  emerald-tinted  valley  with  a  silvery  lake 
empearled  on  its  western  rim  lay  before  them, 
cupped  in  a  circle  of  embracing  hills  and  snow- 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  19 

covered  crags.  The  summits  of  the  eastern  and 
western  hills  were  crowned  with  pine,  which 
here  and  there,  like  dusky  sentinels,  traced  their 
lines  down,  down  to  the  water's  edge.  That  gleam- 
ing, brilliant,  silent  water!  Every  tree  upon  its 
brink  was  reproduced,  and  even  the  clouds  above 
floated  again  in  soft,  tremulous  pictures  beneath 
the  surface  of  this  beautiful  mountain  mirror- 
Sheer  above  the  lake  on  the  south  towered  white 
granite  cliffs,  holding  here  and  there  a  whiter 
bloom  of  snow  in  their  pale  embrace. 

Ellen  jumped  excitedly  from  her  seat  to  lean 
over  and  hug  her  friend  Diantha,  as  the  wagon 
rolled  slowly  down  the  smooth  road  to  the  spot 
which  John  had  selected  for  the  Winthrop  and 
Tyler  tents,  close  to  the  marquee  of  President 
Young.  Dian  put  up  a  caressing  hand  to  the  soft 
cheek  of  her  enthusiastic  friend,  Ellen,  and  leaned 
her  own  cheek  tenderly  against  the  one  bending 
over  her  shoulder. 

"Oh,  Dian,"  breathed  the  happy  girl,  "I  never 
thought  there  was  so  much  beauty  in  all  Utah." 

"Utah  is  the  home  of  beauty  and  goodness," 
said  Charlie  Rose  gallantly,  and  even  Dian  could 
not  answer  this  trite  compliment  saucily,  for  her 
heart  was  melted  with  rapture  at  sight  of  so  much 
grandeur. 

The  camp  was  located  on  a  fairy-like  spot,  over- 
looking the  surrounding  meadows  and  lake.  The 


20         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

boweries,  President  Young's  marquee,  and  Presi- 
dent Heber  C.  Kimball's  tent,  occupied  an  open 
space  amid  the  small  copses  of  pine  on  the  north 
side  of  the  lake.  The  tents,  cariages  and  wagons, 
were  soon  grouped  about  these  central  points.  A 
massive  granite  rock,  fifty-four  feet  in  circum- 
ference by  fifty-four  feet  high,  stood  at  the  en- 
trance of  this  lovely,  natural  bower;  from  the 
center  of  this  spot,  and  apparently  without  earth 
to  sustain  them,  grew  three  pine  trees,  which 
were  fringed  round  at  the  top  of  the  rock  with  a 
thick  cluster  of  young  pines,  about  two  feet  high. 
A  large  flag  was  suspended  from  these  trees, 
bearing  the  motto  "Clear  the  Way,"  with  an  all 
seeing  eye  in  the  oval  of  the  upper  margin,  above 
two  clasped  hands,  under  which,  inscribed  on  a 
scroll,  were  the  words,  "Blessings  Follow  Sac- 
rifices." A  representation  of  the  Pioneer  com- 
pany crossing  the  North  Platte  River,  on  rafts, 
occupied  the  central  space  of  this  great  flag.  Be- 
low was  another  legend,  "The  Pioneers  of  1847  at 
the  Upper  Crossing  of  the  Platte,  in  Pursuit  of  the 
Valleys  of  the  Mountains." 

A  little  farther  to  the  right,  and  near  the  north- 
west corner  of  the  great,  central,  hundred  foot 
bowery,  was  a  stately  pine,  from  which  floated  the 
loveliest  flag  on  earth — the  Stars  and  Stripes — its 
silken  folds  now  whipping  out  wide  and  full  now 
curling  in  graceful  half  circles  around  the  unique 
flagstaff. 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  21 

Another  banner  near  by,  bore  the  representation 
of  a  bundle  of  sticks,  bound  togethe'-  with  strong 
cords,  and  the  inscription,  "The  Constitution  of 
the  United  States.  Equal  Rights!  Woe  to  the 
Violators !" 

From  the  front  of  the  central  bowery  hung  three 
great  banners,  the  first  having  painted  thereon  a 
rock  in  the  midst  of  billowing  waves;  from  the 
summit  of  the  rock  floated  the  starry  flag,  and  be- 
low was  the  inscription,  "The  Constitution  of  the 
United  States!  The  'Mormons'  will  Defend  the 
Rock!  Who  can  Prevail  Against  it?"  The  sec- 
ond banner  had  the  picture  of  a  lion,  with  one  paw 
upon  a  rock  above  which  was  the  inscription 
"Utah  Courage,"  and  underneath  in  golden  let- 
ters, "The  Spirit  of  76  is  not  Dead."  The  third 
banner  had  a  lion  standing  beside  the  docile  figure 
of  a  recumbent  lamb,  with  the  inscription,  "Peace 
Reigns  Here,"  painted  across  the  silken  surface 
beneath. 

On  the  tallest  pines  at  the  crowning  point  of 
both  eastern  and  western  summits,  there  floated 
great  flags,  the  red,  white  and  blue  of  their  glory 
accentuated  by  the  clear,  brilliant  blue  of  the  sky, 
and  the  deep  green  of  the  wooded  slopes. 

Scattered  here  and  there  were  massive  swings 
for  the  youth,  while  the  little  ones  were  well  pro- 
vided with  low  swings  and  wide  seats. 

Major  Robert  T.  Burton,  of  the  Nauvoo  and 
Utah  Militia,  with  a  detachment  of  life-guards, 


22         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

had  charge  of  the  swings  and  the  rafts  on  the 
lakes,  to  guard  against  accidents.  John  Stevens 
was  detailed  to  his  own  full  share  of  this  guard 
duty,  and  was  therefore  soon  absent  from  the 
merry  party  he  had  brought  so  carefully  to  the 
camp. 

The  labor  of  setting  up  tents  and  arranging 
camp  filled  the  remaining  afternoon  hours,  and 
Dian  was  glad  when  her  brother  said,  "You  can 
go  now,  my  girl;  Rachel  and  I  will  finish;  take 
this  feather  bed  over  to  Aunt  Clara's  tent,  for 
Rachel  wants  her  to  be  comfortable." 

"What  a  kind  thought,  Appleton;  Aunt  Clara 
does  so  much  sick  nursing  that  she  needs  to  have 
a  good  bed.  Tell  Rachel  I  think  she  is  pretty 
good  to  give  up  her  own  bed." 

"That's  all  right.  Rachel  and  I  are  young,  and 
can  sleep  on  the  ground,  when  we  need  to.  She 
says  Aunt  Clara  was  so  anxious  to  make  you 
young  people  happy  that  she  gave  up  all  the  room 
she  could  for  your  spring  seats  and  yourselves." 

"Aunt  Clara  is  good  to  us,  and  Rachel  is  good 
to  her.  Pretty  good  religion  that,  brother,  eh? 
Rachel  is  very  thoughtful,  Appleton." 

"Yes,  she  is  the  best  woman  on  earth,  Dolly. 
I  appreciate  her,  if  I  am  cross  at  times.  Hark! 
That's  the  bugle  call  for  prayers.  Run  along  with 
your  bed,  Dian." 

"Allow  me  to  assist   in   this  operation,"   and 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  23 

merry  Charlie  Rose  appeared  just  in  time  to  carry 
the  bulky  bed  into  Aunt  Clara's  tent. 

The  camp  gathered  in  the  central  bowery,  at  the 
cool  sunset  hour,  and  the  choir  sang  "Come,  Come 
Ye  Saints." 

Come,  come,  ye  Saints,  no  toil  nor  labor  fear, 

But  with  joy  wend  your  way; 
Though  hard  to  you  this  journey  may  appear, 

Grace  shall  be  as  your  day. 
'Tis  better  far  for  us  to  strive, 
Our  useless  cares  from  us  to  drive. 
Do  this,  and  joy  your  hearts  will  swell — 

All  is  well!  all  is  well! 

Why  should  we  mourn,  or  think  our  lot  is  hard? 

'Tis  not  so;  all  is  right! 
Why  should  we  think  to  earn  a  great  reward, 

If  we  now  shun  the  fight? 
Gird  up  your  loins,  fresh  courage  take, 
Our  God  will  never  us  forsake; 
And  soon  we'll  have  this  tale  to  tell — 

All  is  well!  all  is  well! 

We'l  find  the  place  which  God  for  us  prepared, 

Far  away  in  the  West; 
Where  none  shall  come  to  hurt  or  make  afraid; 

There  the  Saints  will  be  blessed. 
We'll  make  the  air  with  music  ring, 
Shout  praises  to  our  God  and  King; 


24         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Above  the  rest  these  words  we'll  tell — 
All  is  well!  all  is  well! 

And  should  we  die  before  our  journey's  through, 

Happy  day!  all  is  well! 
We  then  are  free  from  toil  and  sorrow  too; 

With  the  just  we  shall  dwell. 
But  if  our  lives  are  spared  again 
To  see  the  Saints,  their  rest  obtain, 
O,  how  we'll  make  this  chorus  swell — 

All  is  well!  all  is  well! 

After  the  song,  the  attention  of  the  assembly 
was  riveted  upon  the  dignified  form  of  Brigham 
Young  as  he  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  raised 
platform  and  said: 

"We  unite,  my  friends  and  brothers,  and  sisters, 
in  gratitude  to  that  Father  who  has  permitted 
us  to  enjoy  this  festal  occasion.  Tomorrow  morn- 
ing, at  seven  o'clock,  the  bugle  will  call  you  here 
to  morning  devotions,  except  those  who  are  de- 
tained at  their  wagons.  We  wish  those  who  have 
children  here  to  see  that  they  are  in  the  tents, 
and  not  have  the  cry  go  forth  that  this,  that  and 
the  other  child  is  lost.  I  also  wish  to  give  a  word 
of  caution  to  all  who  may  visit  this  lake  or  the 
ones  in  the  hidden  vales  above  us.  I  would  rath- 
er have  stayed  at  home  than  to  have  it  said  that 
a  child  has  been  lost,  or  any  person  drowned 
through  visiting  this  place. 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  25 

"Suppose  a  child  was  lost  in  the  woods  and 
could  not  be  found;  suppose  you  should  lose  a 
sister,  a  daughter,  or  a  companion  on  this  lake; 
you  would  always  think  of  your  visit  to  Big  Cot- 
tonwood  Canyon  with  bitter  regret.  A  c'vcum 
stance  of  this  kind  would  mar  the  peace  of  every- 
one. I  wish  the  sisters  and  children  to  keep  away 
from  these  rafts,  unless  they  have  some  person  in 
their  company  capable  of  taking  care  of  them;  if 
they  know  enough  to  do  so  as  they  should,  they 
will  listen  to  this  counsel. 

"Here  are  swings  and  boweries  prepared  for 
your  enjoyment;  here  are  most  beautiful  groves, 
meandering  streams,  and  lovely  sheets  of  water, 
amid  the  towering  peaks  of  the  Wasatch  moun- 
tains. Here  are  the  stupendous  works  of  the  God 
of  Nature,  though  all  do  not  appreciate  His  wis- 
dom, manifested  in  His  works,  but  are  tempted 
to  recklessness  through  the  bouyant  feelings  of 
youth  and  health,  and  without  caution,  are  liable 
to  run  into  danger. 

"Some,  if  they  had  the  power,  would  be  on  the 
other  side  of  those  loftly  peaks  in  ten  minutes, 
instead  of  calmly  meditating  upon  the  wonderful 
works  of  God,  and  His  kind  providence  that  has 
watched  over  us  and  provided  for  us,  more  espe- 
cially in  the  last  fifteen  years  of  our  history.  I 
could  sit  here  for  a  month  and  reflect  on  the  mer- 
cies of  our  God,  and  humble  myself  in  thankful- 


26         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ness  because  of  His  favors  to  myself  as  an  indi- 
vidual, and  to  all  this  great  people. 

"What  do  you  think  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith 
and  his  brother  Hyrum,  the  Patriarch,  would  have 
given  to  have  seen  this  day  in  the  flesh,  and  to 
have  been  here  instead  of  being  taken  to  Carthage, 
like  lambs  to  their  slaughter,  and  butchered  by 
their  enemies?  We  are  hid  up  in  the  Lord's  secret 
chambers,  acording  to  His  promise,  where  none 
can  molest  us,  or  make  us  afraid." 

Diantha's  whole  body  shivered  in  an  inner 
resistance  as  the  President  uttered  this  joyful 
challenge  to  fate.  But  she  listened  attentively  as 
the  further  quiet  words  fell  from  his  lips: 

"Here  is  a  good  floor  which  we  have  prepared 
expressly  for  your  enjoyment,  there  are  two  other 
boweries  for  the  mothers  and  their  children,  and 
here  are  three  bands  of  musicians,  together  with 
our  Nauvoo  Brass  Band  and  Brother  Huntington's 
Martial  Band.  The  Springville  band  and  the  Og- 
den  band  will  both  assist  Professor  Ballo  who 
has  charge  of  the  great  orchestra  provided  for 
dancing.  Before  we  have  our  evening  prayers, 
Profesor  Ballo  will  favor  us  with  one  of  his  class- 
ical selections, — 'what  do  you  call  it,  Brother 
Ballo?' "  asked  the  President  calmly,  across  the 
pavilion,  and  the  musician  flushed  slightly  as  he 
responded  from  the  opposite  platform : 

"It  is  the  Overture  to  Tancreda,"  profusely 
bowing  in  his  embarrassment. 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  27 

And  with  that  the  band  struck  up  the  exquisite 
strains  of  that  tuneful  offering  to  youth  and  cour- 
age, while  the  people  listened  with  well  placed 
musical  sympathy,  to  this  unusual  burst  of  mel- 
ody, in  the  virgin  solitudes  of  this  sylvan  vale. 
The  very  hills  took  up  the  theme  of  that  lovely 
opera  by  Rosinni,  and  echoed  and  re-echoed  the 
fine  harmony  with  all  the  Silver  Lake's  famous 
echo. 

As  the  massive  form  of  the  President's  Coun- 
selor, Heber  C.  Kimball,  stepped  out  to  offer  the 
evening  prayer  for  that  happy  camp,  sweet  El- 
len's soul  sang  and  sang  the  words  of  the  prayer 
into  the  straining  melody  of  the  Overture  to  Tan- 
creda,  but  alas,  Ellen's  music  was  hidden  in  her 
soul  and  had  not  been  taught  to  find  expression 
on  her  lips,  or  from  her  finger-tips. 

After  prayers,  the  people  dispersed  to  their 
tents  to  finish  preparations  for  rest,  or  to  join 
in  dance  and  song  around  camp  fires  or  in  the 
great  boweries. 

At  the  Winthrop  tent,  Rachel  was  completing 
her  camp  arrangements. 

"Just  see  'Enry  B'yle  'ang  'round  Di,"  mut- 
tered Dian's  brother  Harvey  to  his  chums  as  they 
carried  bundles  and  boxes  from  the  wagons  to 
the  tents,  "He  is  too  fine  to  chop  and  dig;  he 
leaves  that  to  John  and  father." 

"I'm  going  to  tell  mother  to  set  him  to  work, 


28         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

said  Lucy,  who  at  once  ran  to  put  her  threat  into 
execution. 

"Miss  Diantha,  what  can  I  do  to  help  you?" 
asked  the  gallant  young  man,  on  receiving  the  hint 
from  frank  Rachel  Willis.  Thereupon  he  took 
bundles  and  parcels  from  the  girl,  she  laughing 
again  and  again  at  his  awkward  attempts  to  be 
useful  around  a  camp  fire. 

The  camp-fires,  now  began  to  shoot  steady 
flames  into  the  darkening  sky ;  the  squeak,  squeak 
of  the  fiddles  was  answered  by  the  toot  of  the 
brass  horns,  and  martial  and  stringed  bands  united 
their  forces  in  loud,  triumphant  invitations  to 
"dance." 

And  how  they  danced!  Old  and  young,  short 
and  tall,  fat  and  slim, — the  temporary  floor  groan- 
ing and  shivering  beneath  the  hundreds  of  merry, 
flying,  stamping  feet. 

Huge  camp  fires,  all  over  the  valley,  flung  danc- 
ing flames  and  sparks  high  into  the  fleecy  evening 
clouds,  while  at  each  corner  of  the  pavilion,  great 
pine  trees,  brought  from  the  hills  and  set  upright 
for  the  purpose,  burned  a  spicy,  fragrant  glowing 
radiance  into  every  crevice  and  corner  of  the 
bowered  halls. 

"Are  you  going  to  dance  with  me?"  drawled 
John  Stevens,  through  his  long  beard,  as  he  sud- 
denly appeared  at  Diantha's  side.  She  stood  in 
the  brilliant  light  of  the  burning  pine  tree,  near 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  29 

the  bowery,  her  tall,  graceful  figure  melting  into 
divine  curves  under  the  simple,  white  frock  she 
wore,  her  arms  uncovered  to  the  elbow  and  her 
lovely  neck  just  bared  to  show  the  proud  lines 
which  dipped  in  smooth  beauty  from  ear-tips 
to  shoulders.  Her  columned  throat  pulsated  with 
bounding  life  under  the  snowy  skin,  as  she  moved 
her  pretty  head  from  side  to  side,  while  the  crown 
of  her  yellow  hair  which  was  coronaded  in  heavy 
braids  around  and  around  the  shapely  head, 
broke  into  tiny  curls  on  her  temples  and  at  the 
white  nape  of  the  neck,  and  was  a  glittering  mass 
of  spun  gold  in  the  dancing  flames  which  height- 
ened both  color  and  quality  of  that  mass  of  silken 
charm. 

"Why,  of  course,  I  am,  if  you  ask  me  to,"  Dian 
replied  frankly. 

She  knew  John  was  not  much  of  a  dancer,  being 
very  tall,  and  not  very  fond  of  gyrating  around  as 
rapidly  as  the  swift  music  demanded.  However, 
she  took  his  arm  and  they  walked  out  upon  the 
floor ;  a  waltz  was  called,  and  then  the  girl  looked 
up  in  her  companion's  face  with  a  dismayed 
glance,  and  he  gazed  at  her  with  a  quizzical  re- 
sponse to  her  misgiving.  Of  all  dances,  he  was 
least  at  home  in  a  waltz. 

Once, — twice, — they  tried  to  turn  around  but 
without  much  success.  They  stumbled  over  oth- 
er couples  on  the  floor.  In  spite  of  Dian's  heroic 
efforts  to  keep  her  giant  upright  and  in  time  with 


30         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  step,  he  stopped  suddenly  and  exclaimed:  "I 
think  we  shall  have  to  call  that  a  failure." 

She  looked  up  quickly  to  see  if  there  was  not  a 
shade  of  disappointment  on  his  face,  and  she  re- 
joiced with  a  wicked  joy,  when  dapper  young 
Henry  Boyle  came  up  immediately  and  carried  her 
off  to  dance,  with  all  the  grace  and  rhythm  that 
was  so  necessary  a  part  of  a  perfect  waltz. 

They  passed  John  once  or  twice,  as  he  stood 
under  the  blazing  pine,  stroking  his  beard  and 
watching  the  dancers  with  an  inscrutable  expres- 
sion. 

Diantha  forgot  him  by  and  by,  and  did  not 
again  think  of  him,  for  her  time  was  so  filled  with 
calls  for  dances  that  she  had  no  time  to  think 
of  anybody  or  anything  but  her  own  excited  self. 

After  a  few  hours  of  dancing,  the  girl  accepted 
Henry  Boyle's  invitation  to  walk  out  around  camp 
awhile,  and  together  they  traversed  the  small 
valley.  As  jthey  passed  their  own  camp-fire, 
where  sat  her  sister-in-law,  Rachel  Winthrop, 
chatting  with  Aunt  Clara,  she  suddenly  wondered 
where  John  Stevens  had  been  all  the  evening. 

"Have  you  seen  John,  this  evening?"  she  asked 
Rachel. 

"Yes,  he  has  been  here,  once  or  twice,  getting 
some  cakes  and  milk  for  himself  and  partner,  I 
guess,  for  he  took  two  plates." 

"I  thought  I  was  his  partner  up  here,"  said  Di- 
antha, in  a  somewhat  injured  tone 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  31 

"Haven't  you  seen  him  this  evening?"  queried 
Aunt  Clara  Tyler. 

"Oh,  yes,  but  I  have  been  dancing  so  hard,  I  for- 
got all  about  him." 

"You  may  find  some  day,  Dian,  that  two  can 
play  at  the  forgetting  game,"  said  Aunt  Clara, 
with  a  tenderness  that  robbed  the  speech  of  any 
bitterness. 

"I  wish  they  would,"  answered  the  girl  indiffer- 
ently. 

Nevertheless  her  vanity  was  touched,  a  few  mo- 
ments after,  when  she  and  her  companion  passed 
a  rustic  bower  of  boughs,  twined  and  twisted  into 
a  lovely  green  retreat,  where  there  was  a  small 
camp-fire  smouldering  in  front,  and  a  low  couch 
inside,  covered  with  softest  buffalo  robes,  where- 
on sat  her  dearest  friend,  Ellen  Tyler;  and 
stretched  out  with  his  long  legs  to  the  fire,  his  arm 
supporting  his  head,  and  his  face  turned  very  in- 
tently to  the  young  girl  near  him,  was  that  recre- 
ant, John  Stevens,  who  ought  just  now  to  be  suf- 
fering all  the  torments  of  a  discarded  lover. 

It  was  annoying  to  say  the  least.  Dian  acted 
as  if  she  did  not  see  them  at  all,  and  whispered 
with  much  animation  to  her  companion,  as  they 
passed  the  light  of  the  fire. 

She  hurried  at  once  to  the  bowery  and  none 
were  more  sprightly  and  gay  until  the  ten  o'clock 
bugle  sounded  throughout  the  valley,  and  then 
she  allowed  Henry  Boyle  to  accompany  her  to  the 


32          JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

tent  where  the  elder  ones  still  sat  chatting  and  en- 
joying themselves. 

Diantha  Winthrop  was  pre-eminently  sensible. 
She  was  sometimes  annoyed  with  the  frequent 
compliments  she  received  as  to  this  trait  of  her 
character.  She  was  rarely  angry  with  people ;  she 
never  gossiped  about  anybody,  and  if  she  had 
nothing  good  to  say,  she  rarely  said  anything  at 
all.  She  was  not  impulsive,  nor  was  she  unduly 
swayed  by  her  emotions,  deep  as  they  sometimes 
were.  She  acted  upon  mature  thought,  and  only 
the  few  who  were  her  intimate  friends,  really  knew 
the  value  of  her  sterling  character. 

Henry  begged  his  companion  to  stroll  up  the 
hill-side  a  little,  just  fairly  out  of  range  of  the  jok- 
ers by  the  camp-fire,  and  the  girl  was  the  more 
willing  because  of  that  other  couple  under  the 
pines  across  the  tiny  valley. 

"Here  you  are,  Dian,"  cried  out  Rachel.  "I  was 
just  wondering  if  you  would  not  like  to  get  that 
pop-corn  and  pop  some  for  the  crowd." 

But  Henry  was  still  begging  under  his  breath, 
for  her  to  come  up  in  the  shadow  of  the  pines, 
and  away  from  the  crowd. 

"Can't  Lucy  and  Josephine  pop  the  corn,  Ra- 
chel?" asked  Dian,  at  last. 

Both  children  protested  their  utter  weariness. 

"Ah,  child,"  said  young  Boyle,  patronizingly  to 
little  Lucy,  "just  pop  the  corn,  like  the  leddy  you 
are." 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  33 

"I'm  not  a  'leddy',"  flashed  the  child  back,  "and 
I  don't  think  it's  fair,  so  there." 

"Don't  cry,"  still  teased  the  young  fellow;  "do 
be  a  good  girl,"  then  joking  in  his  rather  clumsy 
fashion,  he  added,  "Come  and  kiss  yoo  papa." 

"Never  mind,  youngsters,"  sang  out  Tom  Allen, 
"I'll  help  you,"  while  Harvey  and  Josephine  both 
flew  to  assist  Lucy  Winthrop. 

Lucy  sprang  into  the  tent  in  an  angry  flame, 
while  her  mother  followed,  herself  too  annoyed  at 
the  liberty  the  young  man  had  taken  to  answer  at 
all.  But  she  soothed  the  two  little  girls,  and  they 
all  came  out  and  finished  the  corn.  Rachel  herself 
carried  some  up  to  Henry  and  Dian,  who  now  sat 
cozily  far  up  on  the  hill-side,  under  the  dense 
shadow  of  the  trees. 

The  younger  ones  slipped  away  from  the  fire, 
and  the  laughter  and  song  there  died  down;  but 
the  young  couple  still  sat  under  the  dark  shadow, 
far  up  on  the  hill-side. 

Henry  was  entertaining  Dian  with  long  tales 
about  his  former  home  in  the  British  Isles.  He 
gave  glowing  pictures  of  the  castle  belonging  to  a 
distant  relative  in  Staffordshire.  The  girl  listened 
with  increasing  interest;  for  who  could  fail  to 
sympathize  with .  the  neglected  cousin,  even  if  a 
third  one,  of  a  real  lord  and  earl.  The  narrator's 
allusions  to  himself  were  a  little  broad  and  ful- 
some, but  Dian  was  inexperienced,  if  shrewd  by 
nature.  A  feeling  of  deeper  respect  for  this  good 


34         JOHN  STEVENS*  COURTSHIP 

looking  and  highly  connected  youth  was  growing 
momentarily  in  her  breast — he  certainly  was  such 
a  fine  dancer,  and  he  always  picked  up  a  handker- 
chief so  gracefully!  She  could  but  feel  flattered 
by  these  confidential  revelations  of  superior  vir- 
tues and  titled  relations.  The  sounds  were  hushed 
from  tree  to  tree,  and  the  canopy  of  silence  was 
unfolding  in  all  the  majesty  of  the  mid-night  hour. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  pounding  crash  and  roar 
above  them  on  the  hill-crest,  and  down  through  the 
brush  and  trees  came  bounding  some  terrible  wild 
animal. 

Dian  screamed,  and  Henry  jumped  wildly  in  the 
air,  yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"Run,  run ;  it's  a  bear." 

He  took  his  own  advice  so  quickly  that  the  girl 
was  barely  on  her  feet  before  he  was  half-way 
down  to  the  camp  fire,  still  yelling,  "Run,  Run!" 

As  the  young  man  reached  the  full  blaze  of  the 
fire,  a  quick  chorus  of  childish  voices,  above  them 
on  the  hill-side  from  which  he  had  fled,  high  fal- 
settos, trebels,  and  one  deep  bass  voice,  united  in 
a  blasting  sing-song: 

"Come  and  kiss  yoo  papa;  come  and  kiss  yoo 
papa." 

And  the  children,  in  one  derisive  row  of  merci- 
less tormentors,  stood  just  in  the  upper  shadow 
line,  repeating  the  refrain  with  painful  insistence, 
until  Boyle  himself  was  glad  to  retreat  into  the 
silence  of  his  own  tent  for  the  night.  There  were 


DIANTHA  FORGETS  JOHN  35 

sounds  of  laughter  from  every  near-by  tent.  What 
Dian  thought  of  this  absurd  adventure  could  only 
be  conjectured  from  the  scornful  expression  of  her 
rosy  lips,  as  she  gathered  the  two  little  girls  in 
her  arms  and  drove  the  still  jeering  boy,  Harvey, 
and  Tom  Allen  in  the  darkened  back-ground,  away 
into  the  far  seclusion  of  their  own  tent. 

But  even  as  she  fled,  she  heard  in  the  near  dis- 
tance another  shrill  cat-call,  "Come  and  kiss  yoo 
papa."  And  she  joined  with  one  smothered  hys- 
terical burst  of  laughter,  the  two  girls,  who  were 
still  in  her  arms,  in  laughing  at  their  discom- 
fited enemy. 


Ill 

"COME  AND  KISS  YOO  PAPA" 

T  was  barely  five  o'clock  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  long  before  the  lazy  sun  would 
climb  the  high  eastern  hill,  when  Broth- 
er Duzett's  drums  rattled  and  rolled 
their  startling  reveille,  echoing  from  peak  to 
peak.  In  a  moment,  the  quick  bustle  of  camp 
life  broke  the  stillness  of  dawn,  and  the  neigh  of 
the  tethered  horses,  and  the  low  of  the  oxen  in  the 
meadow,  added  a  note  of  surprised  domesticity  to 
that  wild  scene.  Then,  before  these  sounds  were 
fairly  through  echoing  and  re-echoing  across  the 
silver  sheeted  lake,  two  rounds  from  Uncle  Dimick 
Huntington's  cannon  ware  answered  by  two  oth- 
ers across  the  vale  fired  from  Elisha  Everett's  field- 
piece.  The  booming  vdfleys  were  swept  from  crag 
to  crag,  and  went  rolling  and  tumbling  in  wild 
confusion  down  the  canyon's  winding  glens,  and 
were  just  losing  themselves  in  silence,  when  the 
three  brass  bands  united  in  one  great  glowing 
tribute  to  liberty,  in  the  entrancing  melody  of  the 
loved  "Yankee  Doodle."  After  this  even  the  chil- 
dren jcould  sleep  no  longer,  but  dressed  as  best 
they  could  with  half-frozen  fingers  in  the  dim 
dawn  of  the  snow-cooled  air. 


"COME  AND  KISS  YOO  PAPA"        37 

Out  from  tent  and  wagon-box  they  poured  at 
eight  o'clock,  these  merry,  happy  revellers,  filled 
to  the  brim  with  joyous  anticipations  of  all  that 
the  day  and  the  years  would  bring  to  them. 

As  Dian  and  Ellen  met  each  other,  both  with 
cheeks  of  rosy  hue  from  their  hastened  toilet,  and 
ready  to  go  to  the  bowery  for  morning  prayers, 
they  heard  that  shrill  call,  now  muffled  by  the 
busy  morning  noises — 

"Come  and  kiss  yoo  papa,"  and  Dian  knew  that 
the  young  avengers  were  again  hot  on  the  Eng- 
lishman's trail. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Ellen. 

Dian  explained  her  midnight  adventure,  but  she 
asked  no  question  of  Ellen  as  to  her  own  where- 
abouts the  night  before,  as  she  really  was  indif- 
ferent on  that  subject.  She  had  known  and  loved 
Ellen  a  good  part  of  her  life,  and  she  did  not  pro- 
pose to  let  a  silly  thing  like  John  Steven's  di- 
verted attentions  come  between  her  and  her  friend. 
Dian  was  much  too  sensilfe  for  jealousy  as  a  pas- 
time ;  it  might  do  in  real  love ;  but  jealousy  in  the 
abstract  had  never  been  a  part  of  her  character. 
Dian  was  surely  sensible. 

The  girls  were  that  moment  joined  by  Charlie 
Rose,  fresh,  dapper,  and  full  of  morning  "poesy." 
"The  stars  have  left  the  morning  skies 
To  beam  in  Ellen's  lovely  eyes," 
he  began,  when  Dian  interrupted  saucily,  "Well, 
I'll  declare !"  then  he  finished — 


38         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

The  rose  has  left  the  dawn  so  meek, 
To  bloom  in  Dian's  beauteous  cheek." 

"Well,  Charlie,  you  are  at  least  impartial  with 
your  ridiculous  compliments,"  laughed  Dian,  "but 
I  wish  you  wouldn't  go  on  about  my  blowzy 
cheek." 

"I  said  beauteous,"  corrected  Charlie. 

"Where's  Tom  Allen?"  asked  Ellen. 

"Oh,  he's  fishing,  as  usual.  Did  you  folks  have 
plenty  of  fish  this  morning?"  and  then  Charlie 
told  absurd  Munchhausen  fish  stories  till  the  girls 
were  convulsed  with  girlish  laughter. 

"What  became  of  Boyle,  the  elegant?"  asked 
Charlie.  "Me  thinks  I  see  not  his  fringed  panta- 
loons, nor  his  gay,  red  shirt.  Hast  seen  his  lud- 
ship  this  bright  morning?" 

There  was  a  wicked  echo  in  the  back  regions  of 
the  Winthrop  tent  as  Charlie  asked  this,  and  a 
chorus  of  childish  voices  piped  up,  "Come  and  kiss 
yoo  papa,"  and  Dian  and  Ellen  were  again  too 
overcome  with  successive  peals  of  cruel,  heartless 
merriment  even  to  reply  to  Charlie. 

"Dian,"  called  Rachel,  from  the  tent  door, 
"come  here  a  moment.  I  want  you  to  find  that 
flat-iron  you  laid  away  somewhere." 

"Why,  Rachel,  the  bugle  has  sounded  for  us  to 
gather  for  morning  exercises  in  the  bowery.  What 
do  you  want  of  the  flat-iron?" 

"I  want  the  tub,  too;  Harvey,  you  carry  that 
tub  right  down  to  the  creek  this  minute,  and  if  I 


"COME  AND  KISS  YOO  PAPA"        39 

catch  you  up  to  any  more  of  your  monkeyshines,  I 
will  have  your  father  punish  you.  Do  you  hear, 
sir?" 

"Why,  Rachel,  Rachel,"  protested  Dian,  "don't 
get  angry  with  Harvey  up  here.  Surely  he  is  not 
up  to  mischief  in  this  lovely  place?" 

"Do  you  know  what  he  did?"  exclaimed  his 
mother,  more  inclined  to  laugh  after  all  than  to 
scold,  "he  took  Henry  Boyle's  new  red  shirt  out 
of  his  tent  and  then  soused  it  in  the  creek  and  left 
it  soaking  there  all  night.  He  dragged  it  this 
morning  through  the  black  mud  of  this  horrid 
valley  until  you  can't  tell  what  it  is.  Brother 
Boyle  can't  get  up,  I  tell  you,  till  I  wash  and  iron 
his  shirt.  I  am  almost  inclined  to  whip  Harvey 
myself." 

But  she  refrained ;  and  the  two  women  dragged 
the  shirt  out  amid  smothered  peals  of  laughter, 
and  sent  Harvey  to  his  duty  in  the  crack  juvenile 
regiment  of  Rifles,  while  Dian  herself  was  not  un- 
willing to  be  urged  by  Rachel  to  go  on  with  Ellen 
to  the  exercises,  permitting  her  kind-hearted  sis- 
ter-in-law to  prepare  the  shirt  for  future  service. 

And  still  there  floated  at  mysterious  intervals 
that  jeering  cry  about  the  tent  of  the  fallen  hero, 
as  he  lay  ruminating  within  the  inner  sanctuary 
of  his  own  tent  on  the  mischances  of  fickle  for- 
tune. 

"Come  and  kiss  yoo  papa,"  wailed  the  children, 


40         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

as  they,  too,  departed  for  the  exercises  in  the 
bowery. 

The  scene  in  the  central  pavilion  was  impres- 
sive! After  prayers  had  been  offered  by  Apostle 
Amasa  Lyman,  the  great  silken  flag,  taken  down 
through  the  dewy  shades  of  night,  was  unfurled 
from  the  tallest  tree  in  the  vicinity,  by  the  youth- 
ful John  Smith,  son  of  the  murdered  patriarch, 
and  once  more  the  bands  broke  into  crashing  mel- 
ody, and  again  the  cannon  roared  across  the  af- 
frighted silence,  while  the  people  shouted  as  the 
emblem  of  Liberty  was  unfurled  to  the  morning 
breeze. 

The  regiments  of  the  Utah  militia  which  had 
been  drawn  up  in  .rigid  lines  before  the  central 
pavilion,  now  saluted  the  Governor  of  the  Terri- 
tory, Brigham  Young,  and  then  began  a  series  of 
brilliant  evolutions.  The  marching  and  counter- 
marching of  this  tried  and  trusty  band  of  moun- 
taineer soldiers  made  a  gallant  display  which  was 
eminently  fitting  to  time  and  scene,  in  its  evidence 
of  loyal  devotion  to  freedom's  rights. 

"Dian,"  whispered  Ellen,  as  the  two  sat  watch- 
ing the  maneuvers,  "don't  you  just  love  a  soldier? 
The  sight  of  those  brass  buttons  is  just  thrilling 
to  me." 

Dian's  answer  was  more  moderate,  but  she 
would  have  been  less  than  human  if  she  had  not 
been  thrilled  by  the  sight  of  the  so-called  "Hope 
of  Israel,"  the  Juvenile  Rifle  Company  -#hich  was 


"COME  AND  KISS  YOO  PAPA"        41 

now  led  out  by  the  handsome  young  son  of  the 
President  himself,  John  W.  Young;  for  all  those 
youngsters  were  less  than  sixteen  years  old.  Her 
nephew,  Harvey  Winthrop,  was  in  that  gay  com- 
pany, as  she  noted  triumphantly.  And  their 
marching  and  counter-marching,  their  saluting 
and  drilling  was  a  sight  to  touch  the  most  slug- 
gish heart  into  warmth  of  admiration. 

"Oh,  Dian,  isn't  that  the  cutest  thing  you  ever 
saw  in  your  life?"  again  asked  happy  Ellen,  as 
they  watched  the  youthful  soldiers  finally  trot  off 
to  the  silence  of  the  trees  beyond. 

"Let  us  go,  Dian,  now  that  the  military  exer- 
cises are  over.  I  have  just  been  longing  to  climb 
those  peaks,  and  see  the  lakes  above  us.  Come 
quick ;  let  us  go  now,"  and  the  restless  girl  pulled 
at  her  friend's  sleeve. 

"Why,  dear,  you  must  be  one  of  the  reckless 
spirits  the  President  was  talking  about  last  night. 
We  ought  to  stay  and  listen  to  all  the  program  in 
the  Bowery.  Let  us  go  with  the  crowd  and  not 
sneak  off  alone." 

But  Ellen  could  not  wait,  so  eager  were  her  feet 
to  press  the  forbidden  slopes  of  the  hills  above. 
She  longed  to  fly,  so  vital  were  her  pulses.  The 
girls  compromised  as  usual  and  finally  walked 
over  to  the  swings  on  the  north  side  of  the  lake, 
and  both  swung  themselves  into  happy  -weari- 
ness in  half  an  hour's  time. 


42         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Where  are  the  boys?"  asked  Willie  Howe,  as 
the  two  girls  strolled  about. 

"John  is  doing  guard  duty ;  Charlie  is  down  the 
canyon  with  the  horses;  Tom  declares  he  will 
bring  us  a  whole  wheelbarrow  of  fish  for  dinner, 
so  I  suppose  he  is  somewhere  on  the  lakes  fish- 
ing." 

"And  where  is  Henry  Boyle?" 

At  that  Dian  remembered  his  plight  and  her 
ready  laughter  bubbled  up  to  eyes  and  lips.  She 
told  the  shirt  story  midst  peals  of  wicked  laugh- 
ter. Youth  is  so  cruel! 


IV 
THE  ECHO  DOWN  THE  CANYON 

HE  two  girls  now  strolled  outward  to- 
ward Solitude.  On  and  on  they  went, 
drawn  by  the  beauty  of  the  scene  about 
them.  As  the  upward  path  brought 
them  into  the  over-arched  seclusion  of  the  eternal 
quaking-aspens,  towering  in  highest  majesty 
above  them,  their  very  tones  were  hushed  to  rev- 
erence by  the  surrounding  loveliness. 

"Oh,  this  is  indeed  Solitude!  Such  solitude  as 
only  God  can  make  possible,"  exclaimed  Diantha 
as  the  two  emerged  from  the  long  path  among  the 
tall  trees,  and  saw  the  tiny  gorge  below  them, 
ending  in  the  frowning,  locked  fortress  above. 

They  lingered  on  the  upward  climb  to  Lake  Sol- 
itude to  gather  bluebells  and  columbines,  and 
when  they  at  last  emerged  on  the  rim  of  the  rock 
which  stretched  from  peak  to  peak,  enclosing  that 
hidden,  silent  sheet  of  glassy  water,  both  felt  that 
they  had  no  words  left  to  express  their  pent-up 
feelings.  It  was  gloriously  beautiful!  And  so 
they  sat  down  upon  the  brink,  and  cast  stones  into 
the  surface  of  the  pool.  They  were  all  alone  in 
that  retired  spot.  Their  merry  companions,  and 


44         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  thousands  of  revellers  had  evidently  taken 
other  paths  among  the  many,  each  one  of  which 
led  to  other  and  more  entrancing  scenes  than  the 
last. 

And  in  that  silence  and  seclusion,  the  two  girls, 
for  the  last  time  in  this  life,  opened  to  each  other 
the  heart's  secret  recesses,  for  each  to  gaze  upon. 
The  sweetness  of  that  confidence  hallowed,  for  all 
time,  the  place  and  the  day.  The  tragedy  of  life 
hovered  close  to  both  innocent  souls,  and  above 
and  about  them  hung  the  curtains  of  the  uncertain 
future.  Ellen  was  never  before  so  lovable  and 
dear  to  Dian,  while  Ellen,  dear,  affectionate  Ellen, 
fairly  revelled  in  this  rare  and  unreserved  confi- 
dence shown  to  her  by  her  adored  friend. 

A  distant  "Hello"  reminded  them  that  they  had 
promised  to  be  back  at  camp  in  time  to  take  the 
long  trip  up  to  an  upper  lake,  and  they  answered 
with  another  cry  of  "Hello,"  which  was  caught 
and  repeated  a  thousand  times  in  the  mysterious 
echo  nestling  forever  under  the  shelter  of  the 
chalk-white  peaks.  And  back  they  sped,  under 
the  giant  quaking-askens,  to  the  edge  of  Lover's 
Lane.  Just  as  they  reached  the  forest,  Henry 
Boyle  met  them,  his  handsome  young  face  glow- 
ing with  the  exertions  he  had  put  forth  to  locate 
these  wanderers. 

"Hurry,  the  crowd  are  all  waiting  for  you  two. 
Aunt  Clara  has  put  up  our  luncheon ;  John  Stev- 
vens  has  got  off  guard  duty  for  two  hours,  and 


THE  ECHO  DOWN  THE  CANYON   45 

Charlie  and  Tom  have  both  arranged  to  make  the 
trip  up  to  the  upper  lake." 

The  girls  ran  down  the  slope  with  him  and 
found  the  young  people  all  ready  at  the  edge  of 
the  bowery. 

"Are  you  children  going?"  asked  Dian,  not  too 
well  pleased  to  find  a  group  of  noisy,  half-grown 
children  as  part  of  their  equipment. 

"Ah,  let  them  go,  Dian,"  begged  Ellen ;  "I  will 
look  after  them,  and  I  know  Harvey  will  be  good, 
and  the  girls  will  stay  right  with  me.  Won't  you, 
girls?" 

And  with  this  promise,  the  whole  party  started 
up  the  steep  ascent  towards  the  upper  lake. 

"In  all  my  life,"  said  Ellen,  as  the  children 
swarmed  around  her,  and  she  found  that  John 
Stevens  was  to  be  her  escort,  for  that  portion  of 
the  trip  at  least,  "I  was  never  so  happy.  I  could 
sing  if  I  only  had  Diantha's  voice;  or  I  could 
dance,  if  I  had  Lucy's  hornpipe  steps ;  but  as  it  is, 
I  must  just  shout  aloud  and  cry  'Hello."  And 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  she  put  her  pretty 
hands  to  the  side  of  her  lips  and  cried  down  the 
valley : 

"Hello!  Hello!" 

Ellen  stood  some  time  at  this  viewpoint  on  the 
southern  peak,  and  the  children  gathered  around 
her  and  John  to  admire  the  exquisite  beauty  of 
the  scene  spread  out  in  the  fairy  dell  below  them. 

"Was  there  ever  anything  more  beautiful  on 


46         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

this  earth,  Dian?"  she  asked,  in  triumphant  tones. 
"There  is  nothing  to  hurt  or  make  one  afraid  in  all 
this  holy  mountain,  is  there,  John?" 

"Hush,  Ellie,"  answered  John.  "I  don't  like  peo- 
ple to  fling  the  gauntlet  in  the  face  of  fate  with 
such  careless  words." 

"But,  John,  did  you  hear  what  the  President 
said  this  morning?" 

"Yes,  I  did.  And  it  chilled  my  blood  to  hear 
him  speak  so;  I  have  heard  him  do  such  a  thing 
only  once  before.  Do  you  recall  how  he  said,  the 
first  year  we  came  here,  that  he  wanted  just  ten 
years  of  quiet  and  peace  and  he  would  ask  no  odds 
of  anybody." 

"I  don't  remember  it,  John.  I  was  only  eight 
years  old  then,  you  know." 

"True,  child,  I  forgot.  It  is  just  ten  years  this 
very  day  since  the  pioneers  entered  this  valley." 

"Oh,  John,  don't  be  superstitious.  I  must  not 
listen  to  you  if  you  are  going  to  prophesy  evil. 
Come,  the  children  are  all  going,  and  we  will  lose 
our  dinner.  But  listen  once  more  while  I  cry 
'Hello',"  and  she  cried  again  "Hello!" 

Was  it  John's  fancy,  or  did  he  hear  afar  off  a 
long  shuddering  echo  which  clung  with  sinister 
repetitions  to  every  distant  crag  and  peak. 

"Why,  John,  what  are  you  listening  for?  You 
scare  me!  I  thought  you  were  the  bravest  of 
men." 

"The  bravest  men  take  no  chances  with  fate  or 


THE  ECHO  DOWN  THE  CANYON   47 

men,"  answered  John,  resuming  his  long  upward 
stride  beside  his  companion. 

They  found  the  whole  party  already  gathered 
on  the  little  island  which  lay  in  the  center  of  the 
second  lake. 

As  John  and  Ellen  reached  the  great  rock  on  the 
south  side  of  the  lake,  they  heard  the  sound  of 
music  floating  in  enchanted  waves  through  the 
vale  of  glory  around  them.  John  paused  to  listen. 

It  was  Dian  singing  as  she  spread  the  homely 
viands  on  the  smooth,  white  rock  which  was  to  be 
their  table  on  the  Island  in  the  center  of  the  lake. 
The  sheen  of  her  hair  was  caugnt  by  the  sun- 
beams as  they  danced  across  the  still  water,  for 
she  had  thrown  her  sunbonnet  down  upon  the 
rock,  as  she  plied  her  homely  tasks.  The  boys  had 
caught  some  fish,  and  she  was  stooping  over  the 
camp  fire  to  brown  them  for  the  coming  meal.  Her 
stately  beauty  was  never  more  apparent  than 
when  some  task  of  seeming  ugliness  brought  the 
color  ripe  and  rich  to  cheek  and  neck,  and  thus  she 
bent  above  her  tasks,  every  detail  visible  in  that 
clear  atmosphere  to  the  watchers  across  the  little 
lake. 

Dian  sang  to  the  accompaniment  of  her  brother 
Harvey's  concertina,  all  unconscious  of  the  picture 
she  made  across  those  magic  waters,  so  near  and 
yet  so  far  away  from  those  who  loved  her  best. 
The  soul  of  her  was  still  wrapped  in  dreams,  and 
only  half  awakened  to  response  by  her  friends  or 


48         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

family.  And  as  she  stirred  abouv  or  bent  above 
the  blazing  fire,  her  voice  swept  poignantly  over 
the  distance  as  she  sang  "Kathleen  Mavorneen" 
inthe  reckless  abandonment  of  tone  taught  her  by 
the  little  Italian  music  professor  who  loved  to  put 
his  own  fervid  soul  into  the  unconscious  voices  of 
these  youthful,  sylvan  artists,  whom  he  had  so  un- 
expectedly found  in  this  strange  country. 

'The  Day  Dawn  is  Breaking,"  sang  Dian,  the 
concertina  wailing  and  mildly  snorting  in  its  brave 
efforts  at  complete  harmony  with  Dian's  sweet 
voice,  and  Ellen  listened,  her  own  heart  beating 
in  her  throat  with  an  admiration  that  was  too  gen- 
erous to  be  envy.  But  oh,  why  could  she  not 
sing? 

"You  people  would  better  come  over  here  if  you 
want  your  dinner,"  called  Charlie  Rose.  And  as 
he  spoke  the  odor  of  the  frying  trout  made  invita- 
tion almost  needless. 

"Beside  the  lake  their  tryst  they  kept, 
And  rested  not,  nor  ate,  nor  slept," 
sang  Charlie. 

But  Diantha  caught  his  words  and  added, 
"The  fish  was  gone,  the  lovers  wept ; 
And  wished  their  promise  they  had  kept ! 

"If  you  folks  don't  hurry,  we'll  have  every  scrap 
of  the  fish  eaten  up." 

The  prosaic  appeal  reminded  Ellen  that  she  had 
left  her  friend  alone  with  the  work  of  preparation 
of  the  dinner,  and  so  they  hastened  down  to  the 


THE  ECHO  DOWN  THE  CANYON   49 

other  raft  and  soon  paddled  across  to  the  island. 

The  picnic  dinner  was  scarcely  over  before  Tom 
Allen  was  down  on  the  narrow  beach  and  calling 
for  all  hands  to  embark.  The  children  followed 
him  quickly,  and  he  managed  to  secure  both 
Charlie  Rose  and  Diantha  as  his  other  passen- 
gers; just  as  Henry  Boyle  came  running  down 
the  rocks,  Tom  called:  "Get  the  pole  and  give 
us  a  push  from  shore." 

"Wait,"  called  the  young  Englishman. 

Boyle  seized  the  pole,  and  sprang  for  the  raft, 
but  in  an  instant  he  was  waist  deep  in  the  icy  wa- 
ter, and  the  raft  was  floating  off  beyond  his  reach. 

"Come  and  kiss  yoo  papa,"  yelled  out  the  pip- 
ing chorus  of  children's  voices,  while  Charlie  re- 
cited dramatically,  "The  boy  stood  on  the  burn- 
ing deck,"  with  his  own  absurd  modifications  of 
the  original  text. 

Dian  was  angry  with  the  children,  thus  to  taunt 
their  helpless  and  now  uncomfortable  friend,  but 
the  children  only  cried  out  the  refrain,  again  and 
again,  and  that  piping  treble  swept  over  the  wa- 
ters, as  the  poor  youth  left  behind  waded  up  on 
to  the  shore  of  the  island  and  turned  his  back  re- 
sentfully upon  his  jeering  tormentors. 

At  that  moment,  John  himself  rounded  the 
island  with  his  own  raft  and  picked  up  the  discom- 
fited youth,  whose  once  brilliant  red  shirt,  fresh- 
ly ironed  that  morning  by  Rachel's  kind  hands, 
was  once  more  faded  and  streaked,  and  added  to 


50         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

that  humiliation  was  the  awful  discomfiture  of 
those  dripping,  wet,  and  heavy  leathern  panta- 
loons, bordered  with  dripping  fringe.  Surely  his 
punishment  was  very  heavy. 

"Hurry  home,"  said  John,  kindly,  as  they  land- 
ed, "and  get  on  some  dry  clothing. 

As  poor  Boyle  plunged  and  swashed  on  his  hur- 
ried homeward  way,  the  cluck  of  those  swishing 
breeches  and  the  sluice  of  his  brand  new  but  wa- 
ter-filled shoes  made  it  difficult  for  even  Ellen  to 
keep  herself  from  joining  the  children  in  their 
peals  of  naughty  merriment. 

Yet,  with  all  the  sundry  small  mishaps,  surely 
there  had  never  been  so  happy  and  so  blissful  a 
day  vouchsafed  to  the  "Mormon"  refugees  in  all 
their  tempestuous  short  existence. 

But  the  echo  calls  and  calls  from  peak  to  peak 
and  cries  the  challenge  out  to  happiness  and  free- 
dom. And  who  shall  answer,  O  spirit  of  a  name- 
less past,  so  long  pent  up  in  these  hoary  mountain 
vales ! 


'THE  ARMY  IS  UPON  US" 

Oyez ! ! 

T  is  a  long  and  a  difficult  climb  into  the 
tops  of  the  Wasatch  mountains;  and  it 
takes  hours  and  hours  to  climb ;  and  the 
knees  grow  weak,  and  the  breath  comes 
hard,  and  the  body  bends  to  the  grass. 

Oyez!  Oyez! 

And  the  news  of  the  evil  day  may  travel  so  fast 
or  travel  so  slow,  good  sir,  but  it  travels  apace, 
and  reaches  the  hills  by  a  steep  and  a  difficult 
road.  And  long  are  the  miles  and  dusty  the  path 
which  stretch  between  the  rolling  river  Platte  and 
the  tops  of  the  Wasatch  hills.  But  men  must  ride, 
good  sirs,  when  they  bear  the  message  of  evil  re- 
port, for  evil  finds  wings  of  wind,  while  good  goes 
only  by  post,  good  sirs.  And  the  men  must  ride 
fast,  and  the  men  must  ride  far,  for  the  miles  are 
many  and  the  road  is  long  that  stretch  between 
the  Platte  and  the  Wasatch  hills. 

Oyez!  Oyez!  Oyez! 

The  people  in  the  hills  are  happy  today,  for  they 
see  not,  neither  do  they  hear,  the  echo  which  flies 
in  sinister  message  from  peak  to  peak  as  the  men 
ride  fast  and  spare  not,  climbing  and  climbing 


52          JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

still,  to  reach  the  tops  of  the  Wasatch  hills.  And 
the  echo  is  caught  and  stilled  in  its  upward  peal 
by  the  curling  folds  of  that  star-lit  flag  which 
flutters  and  flies  at  full-masted  pride  on  the  top  of 
the  highest  tree  on  the  top  of  the  Wasatch  hills. 
Oyez!  Good  Sirs,  Oyez! 

The  young  people  ran  and  danced  and  sang  on 
their  way  down  the  road  from  the  upper  lake,  but 
run  as  they  would  Ellen  was  ahead  of  them  all, 
and  she  reached  the  spot  where  she  and  John  had 
lingered  on  their  upward  way,  at  the  jutting  prom- 
ontory, and  the  whole  party  stood  breathless  and 
silent  in  speechless  admiration. 

But  it  was  more  than  the  beauty  of  the  scene 
which  caught  and  riveted  John's  attention.  He 
stood  on  the  very  edge  of  the  precipice  and  shad- 
ed his  eye  with  his  hand,  then  quickly  took  out  his 
field  glass. 

"What  is  it,  John?"  asked  Charlie  Rose,  sober 
in  an  instant  at  the  look  upon  his  irlend's  face. 

"Show  me;  let  me  help  to  make  things  attrac- 
tive," said  Tom,  with  a  teasing  note  in  his  voice. 

"What  do  you  see,  John?  I  can  see  three  horse- 
men coming  up  the  Valley  trail.  They  are  just 
now  turning  the  point,"  said  Charley. 

"Oh,  I  see  them,"  shouted  Harvey,  in  a  boy's 
excitement  and  with  a  mountaineers  clear  vision, 
he  added,  "And  they  are  not  our  folks.  They  look 
too  tired  and  rough  for  any  of  our  folks.  Say 


John,  isn't  that  Porter  Rockwell,  with  his  hair 
braided  round  under  his  hat?  Look!  I  thought 
he  was  out  on  the  Platte  River." 

But  John  had  caught  the  profile  of  the  man  afai 
off  and  he  turned  down  the  dangerous  short  cut 
and  was  galloping  down  the  path  with  the  speed 
of  a  panther.  The  remainder  of  the  young  men 
followed  helter-shelter  and  the  two  older  girls 
were  left  to  go  down  the  safer  and  slower  path 
with  the  little  girls,  with  what  speed  they  could 
muster. 

"I  think  we  are  silly  people  to  run  for  nothing," 
said  Dian  as  they  flew  down  the  path,  but  she  was 
ahead  of  Ellen  even  as  she  spoke,  and  for  some 
unknown  reason,  her  own  blood  was  a  tingle  with 
the  electrical  disturbance  in  the  spiritual  atmos- 
phere about  her. 

"The  United  States  is  sending  an  army  to  de- 
stroy us." 

Almost  before  they  had  left  the  dense  woods 
this  message  had  flashed  into  their  ears. 

"The  United  States  is  sending  an  army  against 
the  Saints." 

The  people  whispered  it,  spoke  it,  shouted  it, 
and  hissed  it  as  they  passed  group  after  group. 
The  children  cried  it;  the  women  moaned  it;  and 
even  the  trees  caught  the  sinister  echo  as  it 
drifted  from  peak  to  peak  and  lost  itself  among 
the  chalk-white  cliffs  as  they  gazed  down  in 
silence  at  the  sudden  excitement,  spreading  like  a 


54         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

pall  over  that  happy  group.  But  as  swift  as  the 
rumor  spread  it  was  followed  as  swiftly  by  a, 
whisper  of  "Peace"  and  again  "Peace,  the  Lord 
is  on  the  side  of  the  innocent,"  and  the  men  drove 
off  the  frown  of  gloom,  the  women  smiled  again  in 
trusting  hope,  and  even  the  children  forgot  to 
cry  as  the  influence  of  the  leader,  Brigham  Young 
spread  out  like  a  bright  cloud,  and  the  spoken 
word  of  quiet  peace  was  passed  from  camp  to 
camp. 

The  men  might  ride,  and  evil  tidings  come, 
but  into  the  very  woof  and  web  of  Mormonism 
was  woven  a  trust  in  Providence  which  no  care- 
less hand  might  sever. 

"Can  Aunt  Clara  feed  these  hungry  travelers?" 
asked  John  Stevens,  half  an  hour  later,  as  he 
raised  the  flap  of  her  tent,  and  Introduced  the 
three  dusty  travel-stained  men,  accompanied  by 
Judge  Elias  Smith,  who  had  been  their  compan- 
ion from  Great  Salt  Lake  City.  Abram  O.  Smoot, 
tall  and  eagle-visaged,  his  splendid  limbs  stiff  and 
worn  with  the  long  ride  between  the  Platte  and 
these  peaceful  glens  in  the  Wasatch;  Porter 
Rockwell,  his  hawkeyed  glance  narrowed  into 
one  glittering  line  as  he  swept  off  his  worn  and 
ragged  hat,  was  crowned  by  a  wreath  of  bur- 
nished braids  that  many  a  woman  might  envy, 
but  which  no  woman's  hand  might  ever  clip,  for 
death  would  find  him  still  crowned  with  those 
dark  and  burnished  tresses.  And  last,  Judson 


"THE  ARMY  IS  UPON  US"  55 

Stoddard,  alert,  resourceful  and  intrepid  rider, 
soldier  and  friend.  Aunt  Clara  ministered  to 
them  all,  giving  milk  and  food  to  refresh,  while 
she  brought  ice-cool  water  to  lave  the  tired  hands 
and  brows  of  her  friends  and  brethren. 

"The  President  wishes  you  to  meet  him  in  the 
council  tent  in  one  hour,"  said  John,  to  the  three 
men,  as  he  left  his  mountaineer  friends  in  Aunt 
Clara's  tent,  and  strode  away  to  join  his  youth- 
ful companions  and  to  dissipate,  as  best  he  could, 
all  the  thoughts  of  gloom  and  care;  for  now  his 
own  troubled  fears  had  fled,  surmounted  by  a 
certain  knowledge  of  what  they  had  portended. 
He  knew  his  leader's  policy  too  well  to  go  about 
the  camp  with  anything  but  a  cool  and  quiet 
front.  Fear  had  passed ;  now  came  action. 

Bishop  Winthrop,  with  a  word  whispered  from 
John,  strolled  leisurely  away  to  the  marquee,  say- 
ing to  his  wife,  Rachel,  as  he  passed:  "You  had 
better  go  on  with  dinner,  Rachel ;  I  may  eat  with 
the  President,  I  wish  to  speak  with  him  a  few 
minutes." 

There  was  no  further  excitement  in  the  Win- 
throp camp,  for  even  John  Stevens  threw  himself 
on  the  ground,  and  lay  looking  up  into  the 
bright  blue  sky  above  him,  calmly  waiting  for 
that  important  function  in  every  man's  life,  his 
supper. 

It  was  rumored  quickly  during  the  afternoon, 
that  the  three  men,  A.  O.  Smoot,  Porter  Rock- 


56         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

well,  and  Judson  Stoddard  had  brought  other 
details  of  this  startling  news,  but  after  the  first 
shock  was  over  the  people  leaned  upon  the  sagac- 
ity and  inspiration  of  their  president,  as  if  he 
were  a  very  part  of  the  rocky  bulwarks  sur- 
rounding them. 

That  night,  the  bugle  called  the  whole  camp,  as 
usual,  together  for  prayers,  and  it  was  then  that 
the  formal  news  was  communicated  to  them: 
"Buchanan  is  sending  an  army  to  exterminate  the 
'Mormons.'  "  It  was  all  true  then. 

The  two  girls,  Diantha,  and  Ellen  Tyler,  sat 
together  in  the  bowery,  when  this  announcement 
was  made,  and  they  looked  at  each  other  with 
wide  open  eyes.  They  were  both  children  when 
brought  to  these  valleys,  and  the  thought  that  the 
terrible  scenes  at  Nauvoo  were  to  be  re-enacted  in 
this  far  distant  Territory,  caused  both  of  them 
to  pale  with  fear  and  dread. 

With  a  common  instinct  both  looked  around 
for  John  Stevens.  Henry  Boyle  stood  near  them, 
and  he  answered  their  questioning  look  with  a 
little  pallid  smile.  Dian  felt  that  the  young  man 
was  as  frightened  as  she,  and  again,  in  spite  of 
herself,  she  felt  contempt  for  him. 

Away  off  in  the  lower  corner  of  the  bowery, 
stood  placid  John  Stevens,  stroking  his  long 
silken  beard,  with  as  much  composure  as  if  the 
announcement  was  a  party  to  be  given  in  the 
Social  Hall.  He  did  not  look  at  Diantha,  but 


"THE  ARMY  IS  UPON  US"  57 

seemed  to  be  thinking  of  something  very  intent- 
ly, which  was  not  unpleasant,  and  she  wondered 
what  it  was. 

"Why  doesn't  John  come  over  here?"  asked 
Ellen,  as  she,  too,  discovered  the  tall  figure  of 
their  friend. 

"Little  goose,  do  you  fear  that  the  soldiers  are 
within  a  half-mile  of  this  place?"  asked  Diantha, 
laughingly.  "Hark,  President  Young  is  going  to 
speak,"  and  then  both  sat  with  silent,  spell-bound 
hearts,  listening  to  that  clarion  voice,  which  ut- 
tered the  sentiments  of  a  people,  harrassed,  driven 
and  mobbed. 

His  reassuring  words,  and  the  strong,  calm 
spirit  of  inspiration  which  spoke  through  the  brief 
sermon,  filled  every  heart  with  renewed  confidence 
and  hope.  What  the  future  held  in  store  for  them 
as  a  people  or  as  individuals,  no  one  could  say; 
but  one  thought  buoyed  up  every  heart ;  God  was 
with  them  and  they  could  not  feel  dismayed. 

The  rejoicing  and  merry-making  was  not  inter- 
rupted for  long;  for  after  supper  the  bands  tuned 
up,  the  pine-trees  were  lighted  anew,  and  the 
merry  hearts  and  the  dancing  feet  filled  the  pretty 
vale  with  rollicking  pleasure. 

"Where  is  John  Stevens?"  asked  Dian  of  Henry 
Boyle,  who  came  up  to  claim  her  for  the  first 
dance. 

"Oh,  he  had  to  go  home  on  some  business  for 


58         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  President,"  answered  Ellen  Tyler,  who  sat 
near. 

"Without  saying  one  word  to  me?"  indignant- 
ly protested  Diantha. 

"He  asked  me  for  my  horse,"  said  young  Boyle, 
"and  told  me  I  might  drive  you  home  in  his  place." 

"Well,  of  all  odd  fellows,  surely  John  Stevens 
is  the  oddest,"  answered  Dian,  none  too  well 
pleased  with  this  summary  disposal  of  her  valu- 
able person.  She  would  certainly  have  to  take 
the  trouble  to  teach  that  young  man  a  lesson  some 
day,  when  she  had  time;  perhaps  when  all  this 
army  business  was  over,  she  would  seriously  take 
him  in  hand.  Not  that  she  cared  a  rap  about  him, 
but  it  was  not  a  good  thing  for  a  young  man  to 
have  such  careless  ways  of  treating  her  sex,  fas- 
tened upon  him  by  long  continued  habit.  Diantha 
was  pre-eminently  given  to  setting  people  right, 
and  she  did  not  intend  that  her  gentlemen  friends 
should  escape  her  molding  hand. 

There  were  many  wakeful  hours  spent  in  that 
gay  little  tented  village  and  long  before  the  peep 
of  day  the  next  morning,  men  were  hitching  up 
and  packing  wagons.  Ere  long  the  whole  caval- 
cade had  taken  up  the  line  of  march,  and  soon  the 
silence  of  the  mountain  peaks  chained  the  whis- 
pers of  pine  and  quaking-aspens  withins  the  long 
vale,  leaving  the  circling  memories  alone  to  sweep 
forever  over  the  lake  like  shadowy  wraiths  of  sum- 
mer mist. 


VI. 
WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN? 

T  the  time  of  this  story  (in  1857-8)  there 
stood  in  Salt  Lake  City,  in  the  Thir- 
teenth Ward,  a  small  adobe  house  of 
four  rooms,  with  the  tiny  square-framed 
windows,  set  at  regular  intervals  from  a  central 
brilliantly  green  door  which  gayly  faced  the  street. 
Not  only  was  the  green  door  rare  because  of  its 
extremely  unconventional  color;  it  was  also  un- 
usual in  its  quick  response  of  welcome  to  black  or 
white,  bond  or  free,  in  a  place  where  welcome 
grew  more  lavishly  than  did  the  grass  in  the 
streets.  There  was  something  so  aggressively 
bright  about  that  loudly  painted  door  that  even 
the  Indians  grew  to  love  its  restful  color  and 
the  atmosphere  that  it  betokened  for  all  who 
pushed  ever  so  lightly  at  its  ready  portals.  The 
green  was  such  a  happy  blending  of  the  dark 
shades  of  the  cool  pine  with  the  yellowed  masses 
of  creeping  mosses  that  one's  eyes  were  rested 
just  to  glance  at  it.  None  who  passed  within  could 
fail  to  recognize  that  some  one  out  of  the  ordinary 
lived  behind  those  gaudy  yet  pleasing  door-pan- 
els. The  poor,  the  sick,  the  halt,  the  lame  and  the 
blind,  all  learned  the  ease  with  which  that  bright 


60         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

door  opened,  and  the  wealth  of  gentle  welcome 
which  spoke  in  the  brighter  eyes  of  dear  old  wid- 
owed Aunt  Clara  Tyler.  The  Indians,  too,  knew 
where  they  would  receive  plenty  of  "shutcup,"  and 
if  one  had  a  bruise  or  a  wound,  only  Aunt  Clara's 
hand  could  soothe  and  dress,  to  the  complete  sat- 
isfaction, the  injured  member. 

Dear  Aunt  Clara!  The  mind  traces  in  golden 
light  her  lovely  picture.  Bright  and  black  were 
her  eyes,  but  never  sharp  and  cruel;  she  had  a 
sweet  mouth  and  the  blackest  of  hair.  She  was 
short  and  very  stout ;  but  who  ever  saw  aught  but 
the  lovely  spirit  which  was  enshrined  within  her 
active  body.  People  used  to  wonder  why  Aunt 
Clara  had  no  enemies,  and  why  everything  ani- 
mate looked  to  her  for  succor  and  protection.  The 
secret  could  all  be  told  in  two  words — womanly 
sympathy,  such  sympathy  as  the  noblest  of  wom- 
en and  the  purest  of  angels  can  bestow;  a  sym- 
pathy which  never  encouraged  evil  because  it 
made  a  sharp  distinction  between  sin  and  sinner, 
but  which  drew  the  whole  sting  from  the  wound 
before  dropping  in  the  needed  tonic  of  wise  coun- 
sel, and  covering  all  softly  with  the  vial  of  loving 
tenderness.  That  was  the  secret  of  her  popularity 
with  young  and  old  in  the  whole  neighborhood. 

She  had  no  children  of  her  own,  which  enabled 
her  to  be  mother  to  the  whole  town.  But  her  dead 
sister's  child,  Ellen,  was  as  dear  to  her  as  an  own 
child,  while  she  had  a  deep  and  abiding  love  and 


WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN?  61 

confidence  in  the  other  motherless  girl,  Diantha 
Winthrop.  She  had  no  money  of  her  own,  and 
being  a  widow,  she  had  few  old  clothes  or  sup- 
plies to  dispose  of;  yet,  someway,  she  was  a  ver- 
itable Relief  Society.  These  organizations  were 
not  then  in  working  order;  and  dozens  of  moth- 
ers with  big  broods  of  children  could  have  told 
how  Aunt  Clara's  winning  voice  and  manner  drew 
from  them  all  the  half-worn  clothes  they  could 
possibly  spare;  and  how  such  a  mother  would 
laugh  as  she  saw  some  podgy  Lamanite  squaw 
going  down  the  street  with  her  own  jean  skirt  on, 
patched  by  Aunt  Clara's  thrifty  fingers  and  clean 
for  the  last  time  in  all  its  final  mournful  existence. 
It  was  quite  natural  for  the  Bishop  to  send  ragged 
children  or  newly  arrived  emigrants  to  knock  at 
Aunt  Clara's  friendly  green  door,  for  help,  spirit- 
ual or  temporal. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  night  after  the  return 
from  the  celebration  in  Cottonwood  Canyon,  a 
dozen  young  people  sat  in  the  comfortable  rush- 
bottomed  chairs  within  the  opened  portals;  and 
while  Aunt  Clara  moved  quietly  among  them,  put- 
ting the  finishing  touches  to  her  evening  work, 
they  talked  with  excited  voices  of  the  impending 
danger. 

Aunt  Clara  saw  that  something  was  necessary 
to  drive  away  the  alarm.  Going  into  her  bed- 
room, she  drew  out  six  large  skeins  of  woolen 
yarn. 


62        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

•Here,  girls,  I  have  a  chore  for  you  to  do.  I 
want  this  yarn  wound  off  for  it  is  to  be  knitted  up 
at  once.  Boys,  you  can  help  by  holding  the  yarn 
nicely  and  properly,  and  the  one  who  is  done  the 
soonest  shall  have  one  of  the  dough-nuts  left  over 
from  my  pic-nic." 

"What's  this  for;  to  knit  stockings  for  our  sol- 
diers?" asked  Diantha,  who  was,  as  usual,  the 
center  of  the  group. 

"It's  to  knit  socks  for  the  Bishop  and  the  boys ; 
I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  nor  do  I  care,  whether 
they  go  out  to  fight  as  the  defenders  of  our  coun- 
try or  not.  It  will  be  all  right  whatever  they  do. 
Didn't  you  hear  President  Young  say  that  God 
would  fight  our  battles  for  us?  Let  that  be  suf- 
ficient." 

"Don't  you  think  we  are  going  to  have  a  war, 
Aunt  Clara?"  ventured  timid  Millie  Howe,  who 
was  one  of  the  group. 

"No,  I  don't.  Of  course  I  don't  know  all  the 
facts  of  the  case,  but  I  have  heard  President 
Young  say  many  times  since  we  entered  the  Val- 
ley that  we  should  not  have  to  fight  any  more 
battles,  for  God  would  fight  them  for  us.  I  have 
perfect  faith  in  his  word." 

"Nevertheless,  Aunt  Clara,"  said  a  voice  at  the 
open  window,  "I  want  to  borrow  your  father's  old 
Revolutionary  musket,  which  you  keep  hanging 
up  over  your  bed." 

Two  or  three  girls  screamed  at  the  suddenness 


WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN?  63 

of  the  sound,  and  the  young  men  started  in  their 
seats. 

"Oh,  John  Stevens,  why  do  you  frighten  us  like 
that?"  called  Ellen.  "Come  here  and  give  an  ac- 
count of  yourself.  Where  have  you  been  since  you 
left  us  in  the  canyon,  and  what  did  you  leave  us 
so  unceremoniously  for?" 

"Business,  business,"  answered  the  young  man, 
entering  the  room  as  he  spoke.  "What  are  you  all 
doing  here,  winding  yarn  as  peacefully  and  calm- 
ly as  if  there  were  nothing  of  more  importance 
on  earth." 

"Well,  is  there  anything  of  more  importance, 
John?"  asked  Tom  Allen.  "Think  of  it,  man,  hold- 
ing yarn  for  the  prettiest  girl  in  Salt  Lake.  I 
know  what  ails  you,  you  have  no  yarn  to  hold. 
Here,  Aunt  Clara,  give  him  some  yarn  to  hold, 
and  there  is  Ellen.  She  can  wind  up  that  slow- 
moving  tongue  of  his  at  the  same  time." 

"The  yarn  around  and  round  she  slung 
To  make  him  loose  his  sluggish  tongue," 
cried  Charlie  Rose,  tauntingly. 

"Oh,  John,  do  tell  us  the  news.  Don't  bother 
with  Tom  and  Charlie;  tell  us  the  news,"  Ellen 
persisted. 

"If  Aunt  Clara  will  give  me  one  of  her  dough- 
nuts, I  will  tell  all  the  news  I  have  to  tell." 

"Why  don't  you  say  that  you  will  tell  all  there 
is  to  tell,  John;  you  are  so  non-committal?" 
chimed  in  Diantha,  who  understood  how  much 


64         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  how  little  might  be  expected  in  the  way  of 
telling  or  talking  from  John  Stevens. 

Aunt  Clara  went  out  and  brought  in  a  pan  of 
dough-nuts  and  a  pitcher  of  milk,  which  kept  the 
young  people  too  busy  for  a  few  minutes  to  talk 
anything  but  nonsense. 

"If  I  could  find  a  girl  that  could  make  as  good 
dough-nuts  as  you  can,  Aunt  Clara,"  said  Tom  Al- 
len, with  his  mouth  half-full  of  cake,  "I  would 
marry  her  tomorrow." 

"Would  you,  indeed,"  cried  Ellen  Tyler.  "Then 
you  must  learn  that  catching  comes  before  hang- 
ing. I  made  those  dough-nuts  myself,  young  im- 
pudence, while  Aunt  Clara  was  fitting  my  dress  to 
wear  up  in  the  canyon." 

"Ellie,  I  shall  certainly  have  to  take  you  as  my 
wife.  You  know  that  I  have  already  been  engaged 
several  times.  But  you  shall  have  the  privilege  of 
being  my  very  last  sweetheart.  The  last  is  best, 
you  know,  of  all  the  game.  You  are  second  to 
none  in  the  matter  of  dough-nuts.  Please,  Ellie, 
give  me  another  fried  cake." 

"Another  plate-full,  you  mean.  I  certainly  shall 
not  accept  your  offer,  for  if  I  did  I  should  have 
nothing  else  to  do  the  rest  of  my  life  but  fry 
dough-nuts  for  you." 

"Ellie,  haven't  you  heard  that  the  nearest  way  to 
a  man's  heart  is — " 

"Oh,  don't  say  such  horrid  things.    We  all  know 


WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN?  65 

where  your  heart  lies,  Tom,  so  don't  bother  to  tell 
us,"  said  Dian,  with  a  disgusted  air. 

"What  on  earth  is  the  matter  with  me,"  began 
Tom,  rising  in  mock  indignation  from  his  chair, 
but  the  girls  cried  out  in  dismay,  and  John  Ste- 
vens, who  sat  nearest  the  offending  youth,  pulled 
him  down  into  his  seat  again,  and  growled  at  him 
in  so  low  a  voice  that  no  one  but  Tom  could  hear 
him,  "There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  you,  only 
you  make  yourself  a  little  too  prominent."  And 
John  indicated  his  friend's  adipose  with  a  slight 
blow.  Tom  was  so  tickled  with  the  joke  that  he 
determined  to  repeat  it  even  if  the  girls  should  be 
more  shocked  than  ever,  but  Aunt  Clara  came  in 
and  asked  John  to  tell  them  the  news  of  the  army. 

"Yes,  there  is  really  an  army  en  route  for  Utah, 
but  they  will  forever  be  en  route,  either  to  Utah," 
after  a  pause,  he  added  under  his  breath,  "or  to 
hell." 

"What  are  they  coming  here  for?"  asked  Aunt 
Clara,  again. 

"No  one  knows,  unless  it  is  to  rob  and  murder 
us  again,  as  mobs  have  tried  to  do  so  often  be- 
fore." 

"And  will  they  do  it?"  breathlessly  asked  Ellen. 

"Not  this  year,"  grimly  answered  John. 
"There  is  only  one  entrance  into  this  valley, 
through  the  canyon.  And  forty  men  could  hold  an 
army  at  bay  for  a  year  in  our  canyons." 

"But,  John,  where  are  they?  and  how  many  are 

6 


66         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

there  of  them?  and  when  will  they  get  here?  and 
who  is  going  out  to  meet  them  and  fight  them, 
and—" 

"Well,  Ellie,  we  shall  give  you  the  credit  of  ask- 
ing more  questions  in  a  minute  than  even  Presi- 
dent Young  could  answer  in  a  day.  Say,  boys, 
where  is  Henry  Boyle?" 

"Henry  Boyle,  did  you  say,  Henry  Boyle?"  and 
Tom  Allen,  who  had  thus  repeated  the  question, 
began  to  laugh,  and  as  he  laughed  he  fairly  tum- 
bled off  his  chair  in  his  efforts  to  control  his  merri- 
ment. The  others  smiled  and  some  even  laughed 
aloud  to  see  fat  Tom  laugh,  for  his  merriment  was 
always  as  contagious  as  a  clown's. 

"Do  tell  us  what  is  the  matter  with  Henry 
Boyle?"  snapped  Diantha,  at  last,  worn  out  by  his 
long  continued,  mysterious  laughter. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  forget  all  about  it,  this  war  talk 
drove  it  all  out  of  my  head.  But  it  is  too  ridicu- 
lous for  anything,"  and  he  went  off  into  another 
peal  of  laughter  and  exhausted  himself,  before 
they  could  calm  him  down  to  tell  his  story. 

"You  see,  early  this  morning,  far  too  early,  it 
could  not  have  been  more  than  half  an  hour  after 
sunrise,  I  was  just  taking  my  last  beauty  sleep, 
when  a  little  boy  rapped  at  my  door;  and  when 
I  succeeded  in  tearing  myself  from  the  arms  of 
Morpheus  sufficiently  to  find  out  what  he  wanted, 
he  said  Brother  Boyle  wanted  to  see  me.  I  got 
myself  over  to  Henry's  and  on  entering  the  room," 


WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN?  67 

here  another  burst  of  laughter  rendered  Tom 
speechless  for  a  moment,  "there  lay  Henry  on  his 
bed,  his  legs  stretched  out  and  covered  with  his 
hard  shrunken  buckskin  pants.  I  don't  know 
where  he  got  those  pants,  but  they  were  not  half 
tanned,  and  yesterday  after  that  fall  in  the  lake 
with  them,  fringes  and  all,  he  slept  in  them,  for 
he  said  he  could  not  get  them  off ;  and  he  had  to  let 
Charlie  Rose  drive  the  folks  down  in  the  wagon, 
while  he  coaxed  another  family  to  let  him  travel 
down  in  the  bottom  of  their  wagon,  for  he  couldn't 
bend  his  knees.  He  got  on  to  his  bed  someway, 
and  there  he  lies.  He  wanted  me  to  help  him  out 
of  his  scrape,  for  he  says  he  can  not  afford  to  lose 
his  precious  pants;  they  cost  him  too  much." 

"What  did  you  tell  him  to  do?"  asked  Ellen. 

"Oh,  I  ordered  him  to  live  on  fresh  air  and  cold 
water  for  three  days,  so  his  legs  would  shrink,  and 
then  left  him  to  time  and  fate." 

"I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Tom  Allen,  for  treating 
anybody  so,  especially  one  who  is  a  comparative 
stranger  to  these  mountains  and  our  customs."' 

"Oh,  Dian,  if  you  are  going  to  lecture  me,  I  shall 
have  to  have  another  of  Aunt  Clara's  dough-nuts." 

"Come,  my  dears,"  said  Aunt  Clara,  "sing  me  a 
hymn.  Here  is  Harvey  with  his  concertina,  and 
he  will  help  you.  Sing  'O,  ye  mountains  high'," 
and  then,  gradually  quieting  down,  the  young  peo- 
ple joined  in  that  thrilling  hymnal  of  Mormon  in- 


68         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

dependence.  Strange  people  they  were,  with 
strange  notions  of  life  and  destiny. 

"Well,  I  am  going  home,"  announced  Diantha, 
at  last,  and  she  arose  at  once  to  get  her  hat. 

John  Stevens  took  up  his  own  hat  quietly  at  her 
words,  and  she  was  pleased  that  he  did  so,  for  she 
wanted  to  ask  him  more  about  the  coming  trouble, 
and  she  knew  that  he  would  say  nothing  of  im- 
portance in  that  crowd. 

"You  asked  me  to  stay  all  night  with  you,  Dian, 
do  you  want  me  to  come  home  with  you  now?" 
queried  Ellen  Tyler. 

Half  annoyed  that  Ellen  had  thus  rendered  it 
impossible  for  her  to  speak  alone  with  John,  Dian 
was  yet  too  courteous  to  let  her  friend  know  of  her 
feelings.  As  soon  as  Ellen  started  out  Tom  Allen 
snatched  up  his  hat,  and  so  Dian  had  to  accept  the 
double  interruption  of  her  anticipated  confidential 
talk. 

There  was  no  such  a  thing  as  quiet  or  sensible 
talk  with  Tom  Allen  and  Ellie  along ;  but  just  be- 
fore they  reached  her  gate,  Dian  managed  to  ask 
John  quietly  to  go  down  to  Henry  Boyle  and  re- 
lease him  from  the  effects  of  Tom  Allen's  cruel 
fun. 

John  parted  with  them  all,  and  after  a  brief  visit 
with  Henry  Boyle,  wended  his  way  to  President 
Young's  office,  where  he  was  soon  deep  in  council 
with  his  leaders  and  the  associated  friends  of  the 
Nauvoo  Legion. 


WHO  SHALL  FEAR  MAN?  69 

The  middle  of  August  found  John  Stevens  en- 
listed as  one  of  a  small,  trusty  band  of  Utah  moun- 
taineers under  Colonel  Robert  T.  Burton,  with 
faces  set  to  the  east,  where  they  were  soon  out  of 
sight  and  sound  of  civilization,  riding  toward  the 
coming  troops. 


VII. 
VAN  ARDEN  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY 

N  the  early  morning  of  the  sixth  of  Sep- 
tember, 1857,  a  solitary  horseman  was 
slowly  making  his  way  down  Echo  Can- 
yon, thoughtfully  observing  the  features 
of  the  narrow  and  circuitous  route  of  the  everlast- 
ing hills  as  he  rode.  The  morning  sun  glinted  and 
shimmered  upon  the  gaudy  gilt  buttons  and  epau- 
lettes of  his  dark  blue  coat.  His  cap  bore  upon  its 
visor  the  arms  of  the  U.  S.  He  was  clearly  an 
army  officer. 

The  bright  fluttering  leaves  on  the  oak  and  ma- 
ple brush  that  clothed  the  mountain  sides  in  their 
gaudy,  early  autumn  dress,  formed  a  vivid  con- 
trast to  the  tiny  groves  of  cedar  which  clung  close- 
ly to  the  mountain  tops  or  hung  in  straggling 
beauty  to  the  side  of  some  precipitous  cliff.  The 
bare,  brown  earth,  dotted  with  bald  white  and 
gray  boulders,  showed  its  plain  face  here  and 
there,  and  far  from  the  eye,  the  dull  brown  shade 
was  gradually  melted  into  a  pinkish  purple  haze, 
too  full  of  wild  barbaric  beauty  to  escape  the  at- 
tention of  the  young  rider  who  sat  his  fine  horse 
with  a  proud  military  firmness. 
The  officer  was  evidently  upon  the  alert  for  any 


VAN  ARDEN  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY   71 

surprise,  for  his  eye  glanced  quickly  ahead  and 
'  around ;  his  whole  bearing  suggested  a  sharp,  sus- 
picious attention  to  every  detail  of  road  and  over- 
hanging rock.  As  he  turned  a  sudden  curve  in  the 
road,  he  met  a  tall,  silent  horseman,  who  sat  his 
restless  steed,  in  a  manner  no  less  firm  and  com- 
manding than  that  manifested  by  the  gayly-clad 
officer  of  the  great  army  of  the  United  States. 

"Good  morning,  sir ;  may  I  ask  whither  you  are 
bound?"  said  the  mountaineer. 

"Certainly,  I  am  traveling  to  Salt  Lake  City. 
Permit  me  to  pass,  if  you  please." 

"Just  one  moment;  do  you  come  on  an  errand 
of  peace  or  otherwise.  You  must  know  something 
of  the  condition  of  affairs  in  this  Territory,  and  I 
assure  you  I  have  full  right  and  authority  to  ask 
this  question." 

The  officer  glanced  shrewdly  into  the  face  of 
his  opponent,  and  after  a  few  moments'  careful 
scrutiny,  which  was  apparently  satisfactory,  he 
leaned  easily  over  the  horn  of  his  saddle,  and  an- 
swered quietly: 

"I  accept  your  declaration  and  as  a  civil  answer 
to  your  somewhat  unusual  question,  I  am  quite 
willing  to  tell  you  that  my  name  is  Van  Arden, 
and  that  I  am  bound  on  an  errand  to  Mr.  Brigham 
Young." 

"I  do  not  ask  the  nature  of  that  errand,  for  I 
dont'  suppose  you  would  answer  me  if  I  did ;  but 


72         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  accompanying  you  from 
here  to  the  City." 

"Very  well,  Mr. " 

"Stevens,"  laconically  answered  the  other,  slow- 
ly wheeling  around  his  horse  and  trotting  along  by 
the  other's  side. 

The  remainder  of  the  morning  was  spent  in  a 
somewhat  desultory  conversation,  the  officer  do- 
ing most  of  the  talking,  as  he  was  determined  to 
retain  a  measure  of  friendly  intercourse,  no  matter 
whether  it  was  pleasing  to  his  companion  or  not. 
Towards  noon,  they  halted  beside  the  mountain 
stream,  and  each  produced  a  modicum  of  lunch- 
eon, which  was  partaken  of  in  semi-silence ;  a  few 
questions  from  the  officer  accompanied  the  meal, 
with  exceedingly  brief,  although  not  uncivil,  an- 
swers from  the  mountaineer.  As  they  arose  to  re- 
sume their  journey,  a  small  party  of  horsemen  ap- 
peared just  in  front  of  them,  and  without  a  word 
of  greeting  or  questioning  they  joined  the  two,  and 
silently  followed  closely  upon  the  heels  of  the 
strangely  associated  companions. 

Arriving  in  due  time  in  Salt  Lake  City,  the  gal- 
lant captain  was  escorted  by  his  silent  guard  to  ex- 
cellent quarters  in  the  hotel  on  Main  Street.  As 
he  was  about  to  dismount,  he  turned  to  his  late 
companion  and  courteously  asked : 

'Would  you  kindly  convey,  for  me,  a  message  to 
Brigham  Young?" 

Stevens  drew  himself  up  in  his  saddle,  and  with 


VAN  ARDEN  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY   73 

his  eyes  sternly  set  upon  his  horse's  ears,  he  said 
coldly : 

'If  you  have  any  messages  to  send  to  his  excel- 
lency, Governor  Young,  I  will  deliver  them." 

"Then  be  so  good  as  to  convey  my  compliments 
to  His  Excellency,  Governor  Young,  and  inform 
him  that  Captain  Van  Arden  is  the  bearer  of  im- 
portant messages  for  His  Excellency  which,  from 
their  nature,  should  be  delivered  at  once." 

Without  a  word  of  reply,  Stevens  wheeled  his 
horse  around,  and,  after  a  brief  parley  with  his 
men,  who  quietly  accepted  his  orders,  he  rode 
hastily  up  the  street.  He  was  admitted  at  once  to 
the  office  of  the  Governor,  and  gave  a  brief,  yet 
vivid  report  of  his  three  weeks'  sojourn  in  the 
mountains,  and  then  stated  the  nature  of  his  er- 
rand and  message. 

"I  am  under  orders  from  Colonel  Burton  to  keep 
a  strict,  but  civil  watch  over  this  officer,  who  left 
Fort  Leavenworth,  July  28th,  with  six  mule  teams, 
to  attend  upon  you  with  some  demands  or  re- 
quests. We  have  not  yet  been  able  to  ascertain 
the  nature  of  his  mission,  but  feel  sure  it  is  of  a 
peaceful  nature,  as  he  left  his  teams  and  escort  at 
Ham's  Fork,  and  proceeded  from  thence  alone." 

"What  was  his  object  in  leaving  his  teams?" 
asked  Governor  Young. 

"I  think  he  feared  his  mission  might  be  misun- 
derstood, and  he,  perhaps  be  barred  from  entering 


74         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  valley  at  all,  if  he  attempted  to  bring  them  any 
further."    He  said  as  much  to  me  today." 

"What  is  your  opinion  of  the  man?"  asked  the 
Governor. 

"I  take  him  to  be  a  gentleman.  He  met  some  of 
our  apostates,  who  have,  as  you  know,  hurried  out 
of  Utah  to  join  the  army,  and  they  have,  one  and 
all,  tried  to  scare  the  life  out  of  him,  with  blood 
and  thunder  yarns  about  our  people.  But  he  has 
traveled  straight  along,  and  appears  to  be  a  firm, 
yet  a  sensible  and  peaceable  kind  of  man." 

The  President-Governor  sat  a  moment  in  silent 
meditation.  Then,  with  an  upward  glance  of  his 
piercing  blue  eyes,  he  asked : 

"Did  you  say  that  he  wished  to  see  me  to- 
night?" 

"He  did  not  mention  any  set  time,  only  that  his 
business  was  important  and  he  wished  to  have  an 
interview  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Brother  Wells,  will  you  send  a  message  to 
Brother  Bernhisel,  asking  him  to  be  present  to  ac- 
company us  in  half  an  hour  to  the  hotel?"  said  the 
President.  Then  turning  to  Stevens,  he  added :  - 

"You  will  hold  yourself  and  a  small  escort  with 
you  in  readiness  to  accompany  us  upon  this  er- 
rand." 

In  a  short  time  the  party  arrived  at  the  hotel, 
and  the  guard  were  stationed  at  different  points 
around  the  building,  while  the  gubernatorial  party 


VAN  ARDEN  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY   75 

entered  the  parlor,  and  sent  a  courteous  message 
to  Captain  Van  Arden. 

John  Stevens  lingered  behind  the  rest  of  the 
party,  but  General  Wells  came  to  the  door  and 
called  quickly : 

"Brother  Stevens,  the  President  desires  you  to 
come  in  with  us." 

John  quietly  accompanied  his  general,  and  as 
they  entered  the  parlor,  they  found  the  captain 
shaking  hands  cordially  with  the  Governor.  Who 
could  resist  the  magnetic  courtesy  and  geniality  of 
the  "Mormon"  leader  when  he  chose  to  exert  it! 

In  a  very  short  time  captain  Van  Arden  discov- 
ered that  instead  of  a  bold  pirate  and  trickster,  he 
had  encountered  a  master  spirit,  and  if  he  would 
succeed  in  his  appointed  mission,  he  must  treat  his 
powerful  guest  as  all  great  men  are  treated — with 
the  most  elegant  diplomacy  and  subtlest  defer- 
ence. 

Without  a  word  of  anxious  curiosity  or  vulgar 
assumption  of  power,  Governor  Young  allowed 
the  captain  to  choose  his  own  time  for  the  desired 
interview,  and  ten  o'clock  the  next  day  was  ac- 
cordingly appointed  as  the  best  hour. 

The  captain  accompanied  the  governor  and  the 
rest  of  the  party  to  the  porch  of  the  hotel,  and  as 
they  moved  off  into  the  clear,  pleasant  autumn 
darkness,  he  looked  up  into  the  blue  vault  above 
him  and  said  to  his  own  soul : 

"What  cowardly  fool  and  lying  trickster  has 


76         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

persuaded  the  President  of  the  United  States  to 
send  out  here  the  flower  of  the  American  army  to 
subdue,  or  perhaps  destroy,  this  innocent,  loyal, 
and  simple  people  ?  Brigham  Young  is  the  peer  of 
any  statesman  in  the  United  States,  or  I  cannot 
read  human  nature." 


VIII. 
THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN 


HE  next  morning,  the  8th  of  September, 
when  Captain  Van  Arden  went  down  to 
the  breakfast  table,  his  whilom  com- 
panion, the  silent  Stevens,  was  already 
enjoying  himself  at  a  table  in  the  corner  of  the  din- 
ing room.  The  captain  at  once  joined  him,  and 
found  that  the  silent  lips  could  open,  and  the  re- 
served manner  melt,  when  the  owner  so  willed  it. 
At  ten  o'clock  the  two  wended  their  way  in 
friendly  chat  to  the  Social  Hall,  the  place  appoint- 
ed for  the  proposed  meeting. 

The  captain  found  the  room  a  well-lighted,  large 
hall,  with  a  raised  dias  or  stage,  in  the  east  end, 
surmounted  by  an  arch  which  evidenced  a  cur- 
tain, perhaps  for  the  purpose  of  dramatic  enter- 
tainments. As  another  surprise,  the  captain  caught 
sight  of  a  plaster  cast  of  the  Bard  of  Avon  in  the 
center  of  the  procenium  arch,  smiling  down  upon 
any  Thespian  devotees  who  might  be  present. 
The  floor  was  mostly  covered  with  a  bright  rag 
carpet,  and  the  windows  were  tastefully  draped 
with  dark  red  hangings. 

President  Young  came  forward,  and  again  the 
captain  found  himself  under  that  magnetic  charm ; 


78         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

but  he  was  himself  a  man  of  the  world,  and  he  was 
moreover  exceedingly  anxious  to  carry  his  point 
with  these  people,  however  much  he  might  sympa- 
thize with  them  after  learning  their  true  character 
and  position.  He  was  in  the  employ  of  the  Unit- 
ed States  army,  and  had  a  most  important  duty  to 
perform.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  preliminary 
greetings  were  over,  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
"Mormon"  leader,  and  preferred  his  request. 

"Govenor  Young,  I  come  with  a  letter  from  my 
superiors  and  with  orders  to  purchase  stores  and 
forage  and  lumber  with  which  to  make  our  sol- 
diers, who  are  on  their  way  here,  comfortable  dur- 
ing their  journey." 

"May  I  ask,  Captain,  what  soldiers  are  on  their 
way  here  and  what  brings  them  out  to  these  west- 
ern wilds?" 

The  captain  was  off  his  guard  for  the  moment 
at  the  unexpected  questions.  He  was  aware  that 
everyone  present  knew  beforehand  the  answer  re- 
quired at  his  hands,  and  he  hesitated  at  the  choice 
of  proper  terms  with  which  to  convey  the  unwel- 
come intelligence  which  all  were  already  in  pos- 
session of;  however,  the  questions  must  be  an- 
swered. 

"Through  some  unhappy  misunderstanding, 
Governor,  the  President  of  the  United  States  has 
been  informed  that  the  records  of  this  Territory 
have  been  burned,  and  that  the  people  here  are  in- 
imical to  the  ruling  government." 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN         79 

"The  records  of  the  Territory  are  in  the  proper 
receptacle  for  such  documents,  and  this  people,  as 
you  can  testify,  if  you  will  use  your  eyes  and  your 
ears,  while  you  are  with  us,  are  as  peaceful  and  as 
law-abiding  citizens  of  the  great  United  States  as 
any  that  dwell  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  flag.  I 
see  no  justification  for  thus  sending  down  an  army 
upon  us." 

"Permit  me  to  observe,  your  Excellency,  that 
the  army  is  not  sent  out  here  to  do  harm  or  to  an- 
noy the  peaceable  and  law-abiding  citizens  of  this 
Territory,  but  to  protect  such  from  all  out-laws 
and  murderers,  whether  Indians  or  whites." 

"We  have  a  fully  organized  and  properly  ac- 
knowledged corps  of  territorial  officers,  and  are 
and  have  always  been  able  to  protect  the  inhab- 
itants of  this  Territory  from  insult  or  injury." 

The  captain  proceeded  as  delicately  as  he  could 
to  convey  the  information  that  a  new  governor 
had  been  appointed  for  the  Territory,  who  was 
with  the  main  body  of  the  troops,  and  would  enter 
the  Territory  and  assume  his  office  as  soon  as  cir- 
cumstances would  permit.  He  was  a  wise  and 
prudent  man,  this  new  governor,  by  name  Gum- 
ming, and  he  would  be  a  friend  to  the  people,  and 
a  support  to  all  concerned — so  the  captain  en- 
deavored to  assure  the  assembled  council. 

"I  am  the  governor  of  this  Territory,"  answered 
Brigham  Young,  "and  as  such,  shall  take  the 
proper  measures  to  insure  the  life  and  liberty  of 


80         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  patient,  peaceful  inhabitants  of  these  valleys. 
You  may  tell  your  commander  that  we,  as  a  people, 
have  been  robbed  and  murdered,  our  wives  out- 
raged, and  our  men  massacred,  being  driven  from 
state  to  state,  until  we  came  out  to  this  desert 
wild,  and  here,  by  the  blessings  of  God,  we  have 
made  the  desert  to  blossom  like  the  rose  and  the 
wilderness  to  gush  forth.  We  have  asked  no  help 
from  the  United  States  save  that  given  to  any 
other  distant  territory.  After  we  came  here,  we 
planted  the  flag  of  our  country  upon  our  Ensign 
Peak  within  twenty-four  hours,  thus  taking  formal 
possession  of  this  country  in  the  name  of  the 
United  States;  and  from  that  hour  we  have  held 
out  our  welcoming  arms  to  the  honest  and  peace- 
able of  all  nations  and  tongues.  We  love  our 
country  and  would  take  up  arms  in  her  defense,  as 
our  own  'Mormon'  Battalion  has  so  well  shown, 
but  we  shall  never  submit  to  being  murdered  and 
pillaged  by  a  lot  of  cut-throats  and  out-laws,  for 
we  will  die,  ourselves,  before  we  submit  to  such 
indignities  again." 

A  low  murmur  of  approval  went  round  the  as- 
sembled council,  and  it  was  some  moments  before 
the  officer  could  be  heard,  explaining  that  the 
United  States  had  no  intention  whatever  of  com- 
mitting any  depredations  or  offering  the  least  vio- 
lence to  any  person  or  set  of  persons. 

"We  do  not  want  to  fight  the  United  States," 
said  the  Governor,  "but  if  they  drive  us  to  it,  we 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN         81 

shall  do  the  best  we  can;  and  I  tell  you  as  the 
Lord  lives  we  shall  come  off  conquerors.  The 
United  States  are  sending  their  army  here  simply 
to  hold  us  until  some  mob  can  come  and  butcher 
us  as  has  been  done  before.  We  are  supporters  of 
the  government  and  love  the  constitution  and  re- 
spect the  laws  of  the  United  States;  but  it  is  by 
the  corrupt  administration  of  those  laws  that  we 
are  made  to  suffer.  Most  of  the  government  offi- 
cers who  have  been  sent  here  have  taken  no  inter- 
est in  us,  but  on  the  contrary  have  tried  to  destroy 
us.  What  do  you  think  of  the  patience  of  a  peo- 
ple who  have  submitted  to  seeing  a  pimp  set  up  as 
our  honorable  judge,  to  seeing  him  bring  his 
strumpet  with  him  and  have  her  sit  close  beside 
him  on  the  judicial  bench,  while  he  delivered  his 
unrighteous  rulings?  Others  like  him  complain 
that  there  is  no  civilization  in  Utah  because,  for- 
sooth, there  are  no  gambling  hells  or  houses  of 
prostitution.  The  officers  sent  here  are  often  the 
vilest  and  most  wicked  of  men." 

"Most  of  the  men  sent  to  the  Territory,"  an- 
swered the  diplomatic  captain,  "have  received 
their  office  as  a  political  reward,  or  as  a  stepping 
stone  to  some  higher  office;  but  too  often,  they 
have  no  interest  in  common  with  the  people.  The 
greatest  hold  that  the  government  now  has  upon 
you  is  in  the  accusation  that  you  have  burned  the 
United  States  records." 

"I  deny  that  any  of  the  books  of  the  United 
e 


82         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

States  have  been  burned.  You  are  at  liberty  to 
examine  the  books  as  proof  of  this  statement," 
said  the  Governor.  "I  have  broken  no  law,  and 
in  the  present  state  of  affairs,  I  will  not  suffer  my- 
self to  be  taken  by  any  United  States  officer  *o  be 
killed,  as  they  killed  our  own  beloved  Prophet 
Joseph  Smith." 

"I  do  not  think  it  is  the  intention  of  the  gc  /  ern- 
ment  to  arrest  you,"  said  the  captain,  "but  to  in- 
stal  a  new  governor  in  the  Territory." 

"I  believe  that  you  tell  the  truth,"  returned  the 
President,  "that  you  believe  this — but  you  do  not 
know  their  intentions  as  well  as  I  do.  If  they  dare 
to  force  the  issue,  I  will  not  hold  the  Indians  by 
the  wrist  as  I  do  now,  for  white  men  to  shoot  at ; 
they  shall  go  ahead  and  do  as  they  please.  If  the 
issue  comes,  you  may  tell  the  government  to  stop 
all  emigration  across  the  continent,  for  the  Indians 
will  kill  all  who  attempt  it.  And  if  any  army  suc- 
ceeds in  penetrating  this  valley,  tell  the  govern- 
ment to  see  that  it  has  provisions  and  forage  in 
store,  for  they  will  find  here  only  a  charred  and 
barren  waste.  We  have  plenty  here  of  what  you 
want,  but  we  will  sell  you  nothing.  Further  than 
this,  your  army  shall  not  enter  this  valley  until 
I  say  so." 

The  captain  was  overwhelmed  with  surprise ;  he 
expected  to  find  a  few  fanatical  fools,  and  found 
himself  confronted  with  an  assembly  of  shrewd, 
determined  men.  .  Their  talk  was  the  talk  of  an 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN        83 

equal  power  measuring  arms  with  the  great  body 
of  the  American  people. 

He  tried  to  show  the  President  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  thwart  the  government  in  its  plans  to 
station  troops  in  Great  Salt  Lake  Valley.  If  such 
was  the  determination  of  the  central  government, 
a  handful  of  mountaineers,  albeit  shrewd,  hardy, 
and  fired  with  religious  zeal,  which  was  the  bul- 
wark of  all  lofty  courage,  would  nevertheless 
sooner  or  later  be  compelled  to  submit. 

"We  have  no  fight  with  the  United  States," 
said  Brigham  Young,  "but  when  these  troops, 
which  you  say  must  eventually  quarter  in  this 
Valley,  arrive,  they  will  find  Utah  a  desert ;  every 
house  will  be  burned  to  the  ground,  every  tree  cut 
down,  and  every  field  made  into  a  barren  waste. 
We  have  three  years'  provisions  on  hand,  which 
we  will  cache,  and  then  take  to  the  mountains; 
and  we  shall  receive  from  them  the  protection 
which  we  desire  and  which  we  have  always  de- 
served." 

The  interview  was  thus  terminated.  The  cap- 
tain had  come  to  impress  this  set  of  fanatics  with 
the  might  and  majesty  of  the  United  States  gov- 
ernment; he  was,  instead,  impressed  with  the 
strange,  unnatural  earnestness  of  this  band  of  gal- 
lant men,  whom  he  could  but  see  were  honest, 
pure  and  intelligent. 

At  the  close  of  the  council  Captain  Van  Arden 
was  invited  by  the  governor  to  share  the  hospi- 


84         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

tality  of  his  home  for  the  remainder  of  the  day.  As 
they  left  the  hall,  the  Captain  found  his  old  travel- 
ing companion  standing  upon  the  steps,  and  the 
President  invited  John  Stevens  home  to  dine  with 
them,  and  to  spend  the  afternoon. 

As  the  party  walked  up  the  short  hill  towards 
the  President's  house  they  met  a  small  group  of 
young  people,  and  John's  eye,  from  under  the 
broad  hat,  recognized  pretty  Ellen  Tyler  and  the 
elegant  form  and  handsome  face  of  Diantha  Win- 
throp.  Some  young  men  were  with  them,  and 
momentary  greetings  were  passed  between  John 
and  his  friends. 

After  the  meeting  was  over,  Ellie  turned  to 
Diantha  and  asked  her  eagerly : 

"Did  you  ever  see  such  a  handsome  man;  oh, 
isn't  he  just  superb?"  And  she  gave  herself  a  tiny 
hug  in  evidence  of  the  sincere  admiration  she  felt 
for  the  brilliant  stranger  they  had  just  passed. 

"He  had  a  very  fine  pair  of  side  whiskers,  if 
that  is  what  you  mean.  And  his  coat  was  very 
blue  and  his  buttons  were  very  bright  also,"  an- 
swered Diantha,  laughingly.  "You  can  always 
pick  out  handsome  men,  Ellie,  but  we  passed  so 
quickly  that  I  did  not  get  a  good  look  at  his  face." 

"Who  on  earth  were  you  looking  at,  then?" 
asked  Ellen,  "I  can't  see  how  it  is,  Dian,  that  you 
are  so  slow  to  see  people.  I  see  everyone  at  a 
glance." 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN        85 

"I  was  looking  at  our  President  and  thinking 
what  a  glorious  leader  we  have." 

"I  guess  you  also  saw  John  Stevens,"  said  Tom 
Allen,  who  was  walking  beside  Ellen. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  saw  John.  Who  could  help  seeing 
him?  He  is  too  big  to  escape  anyone's  eyes,"  an- 
swered Dian,  indifferently.  "Here  comes  my 
brother  Appleton." 

The  days  following  were  filled  with  appoint- 
ments for  Captain  Van  Arden  to  meet  and  share 
the  hospitality  of  the  leading  men  of  the  Valley. 
The  gravity  of  the  situation  seemed  swallowed  up 
for  the  time  being  by  a  burst  of  genuine  hospital- 
ity. 

The  third  day  the  captain  promised  to  spend 
with  Bishop  Winthrop,  who  proposed  a  ride  to  the 
Warm  Springs  in  the  afternoon,  returning  to  the 
house  for  an  early  dinner  when  the  Captain  was  to 
meet  the  ladies  of  the  Bishop's  household. 

The  expected  day  came  all  too  soon  for  the 
women  folks,  who  had  much  work  to  do  to  re- 
ceive their  guests  in  proper  manner.  The  riding 
party  was  to  be  home  for  dinner  at  four  o'clock; 
and  at  that  hour,  Aunt  Clara  Tyler,  who  had  been 
invited,  and  the  two  girls,  Diantha  and  Ellen, 
stood  in  the  front  room,  watching  for  the  party. 

"Oh,  isn't  it  perfectly  lovely  to  think  of  seeing 
and  talking  to  that  splendid  captain,  Dian;  I  am 
just  trembling  with  excitement,"  and  Ellen  Tyler 
fluttered  restlessly  about,  going  from  window  to 


86         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

window,  in  utter  inability  to  control  her  impa- 
tience. 

Aunt  Clara  stood  looking  down  the  street,  and 
at  the  words  of  the  impulsive  girl,  she  turned  on 
her  those  gentle  yet  steady  black  eyes,  and  chided : 

"My  child,  there  is  nothing  remarkable  about 
this  captain.  He  is  good  looking,  to  be  sure,  but 
that  is  a  very  small  matter.  He  wears  a  uniform, 
but  that,  too,  is  of  little  account.  He  comes  to  this 
people  in  an  official  capacity,  and  as  such,  our 
brethren  have  thought  proper  to  show  him  all 
courtesy.  But  let  me  tell  you,  neither  your  father 
nor  President  Young  himself  would  permit  this 
man,  nor  any  other  stranger,  to  enter  within  the 
inner  portals  of  his  family  life.  You  are  a  silly  girl 
to  waste  a  thought  upon  him." 

Diantha  sat  rocking  herself  coolly  in  the  big 
rush-bottomed  rocker,  and  with  whimsical  con- 
trariness, she  took  up  Ellen's  argument. 

"I  don't  see,  Aunt  Clara,  why  one  man  isn't  as 
good  as  another,  if  he  behaves  as  well.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  this  captain,  but  suppose  he 
or  any  other  non-Mormon  who  is  a  good,  honor- 
able man,  with  not  a  shadow  of  sin  or  vice  in  him, 
should  happen  to  take  a  notion  to  me,  I  can't  see 
where  the  harm  would  be  in  taking  a  notion  to 
him.  Surely  you  don't  mean  to  imply  that  all  the 
good  men,  and  all  the  desirable  men  are  'Mor- 
mons.' I  think  that  is  a  very  narrow  view.  What 
are  your  reasons?" 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN        87 

"There  are  two  reasons,  my  dears.  One  is  the 
solemn  fact  that  a  marriage  ceremony  solemnized 
by  any  other  than  by  one  divinely  appointed  and 
having  authority  from  God  to  do  so,  ceases  at 
death;  a  separation  from  a  loved  one  after  death, 
to  continue  throughout  all  the  ages  of  eternity 
would  be  far  more  agonizing  and  intolerable  than 
the  mere  earthly  separation  which  is  for  a  few 
flying  years." 

"Well,"  answered  Ellen,  flippantly,  "that's  not 
much  of  a  reason.  If  you  are  sure  of  being  happy 
here,  why  not  let  hereafter  take  care  of  itself? 
'Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.'  " 

"Ah,  my  child,  you  speak  with  the  bitterness  of 
the  world-old  scepticism  and  unbelief  on  your 
lips.  That  vain  philosophy  has  wrecked  more 
hearts  than  any  other  phrase  ever  uttered.  There 
is  also  another  reason;  a  very  present  and  most 
cogent  reason ;  one  that  effects  our  every  day  lives. 
It  is  this :  Married  people  should  be  mated  on  the 
three  planes  upon  which  human  beings  meet  and 
mingle — the  physical,  the  mental  and  the  spiritual. 
If  they  be  mismated  on  either  the  mental  or 
physical  planes,  a  harmonious  adjustment  may  be 
possible  through  the  diligent  exercise  of  the  spir- 
itual graces.  But  if  the  mismating  is  on  the  spir- 
itual plane,such  a  couple  will  surely  find  their  hap- 
piness shipwrecked,  sooner  or  later.  Try  as  you 
may,  twist  as  you  will,  you  nor  none  other  may 
ever  escape  the  bondage  and  sorrow  that  comes  to 


88 

those  who  are  separated  by  a  spiritual  gulf.  I 
have  never  seen  happiness  as  the  result  of  such 
unequal  yoking,  and  I  never  shall.  When,  as  some- 
times happens  there  comes  a  measure  of  peace  to 
such  mismated  couples,  it  is  simply  and  only  be- 
cause the  one  has  sunk,  or  has  risen  to  the  spir- 
itual plane  occupied  by  the  other.  Mark  what  I 
say,  Ellen,  my  girl." 

"Well,  I  shall  marry  for  love,  Auntie;  and  I 
shall  never  take  a  sorrow  on  my  heart  which  I 
cannot  kick  off  from  my  heels." 

Aunt  Clara  did  not  turn  around  to  face  the 
speaker ;  she  merely  said : 

"I  don't  think  God  makes  mistakes ;  and  He  has 
said,  through  his  former  and  latter-day  prophets, 
that  it  is  not  right  for  the  believer  to  mate  with 
the  unbeliever." 

"Oh,  here  they  are,  Auntie;  here  they  are!" 
cried  Ellen. 

Ellen  turned  and  ran  impulsively  out  on  the 
front  porch ;  Aunt  Clara  and  Diantha  followed  her 
in  a  more  leisurely  manner,  while  Sister  Rachel 
Winthrop,  the  hostess  of  the  occasion,  joined  them 
as  soon  as  the  word  reached  her,  and  thus  the  four 
women  stood  waiting  to  receive  their  guests  under 
the  shaded  porch. 

President  Young  led  the  way  up  the  steps  with 
Captain  Van  Arden  close  by  him.  The  President 
introduced  the  captain  to  the  ladies,  since  Bishop 


Winthrop  was  still  busy  at  the  gate  with  others  of 
the  party. 

The  captain  looked  with  genuine  yet  well- 
guarded  interest  into  the  faces  of  the  two  young 
"Mormon"  girls,  almost  the  first  he  had  met.  Hio 
interest  grew  into  admiration,  as  he  noted  the 
lovely  brown  eyes,  and  the  curling  tresses  of 
glossy  brown  hair  floating  around  the  head  of 
sweet,  fascinating  Ellen  Tyler.  Her  lips  were 
curved  and  rosy  with  health  and  beauty,  and  her 
low  brow  and  delicately-traced  eyebrows  were 
like  those  of  a  Grecian  goddess.  Her  sparkling 
charm  was  not  alone  in  the  regular  and  beautiful 
features,  nor  in  the  well-molded  yet  dainty  form; 
but  in  and  through  every  glance,  every  word, 
there  sparkled  an  indefinable  attraction  which  no 
one  could  resist.  Women  loved  her,  men  adored 
her.  And  this  stranger  instantly  felt  the  force  of 
her  loveliness.  He  was  a  man  of  the  world,  too 
prudent  to  manifest  much  interest  in  women  of 
this  peculiar  and  just  now  excited  people,  but  he 
shot  a  glance  of  daring  admiration  into  the  brown 
depths  of  Ellen's  eyes,  which  she,  as  daringly  ac- 
cepted. 

Diantha  was  a  little  behind  the  others,  and  as 
she  came  forward  for  an  introduction,  the  captain 
mentally  exclaimed :  "By  Jove !  where  do  they  get 
such  beauty  from?"  For  the  elegant  dignity  of  the 
girl's  carriage  was  fully  warranted  by  the  superb 
outlines  of  her  face  and  form.  Her  head  was 


90         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

crowned  with  its  soft  weight  of  yellow  hair,  braid 
over  braid  of  its  golden  glory  breaking  into  tiny 
waves  on  her  brow;  the  neck  curved  gradually 
into  the  loveliest  shoulders  and  bust  he  had  ever 
beheld;  and  these  lines  melted  into  so  round  and 
pliant  a  waist  that  he  felt  sure  she  could  well  pose 
in  marble  for  a  perfect  Hebe.  Her  face  was  not 
so  beautiful  as  that  of  the  brown-eyed  maiden,  but 
it  was  so  engaging  in  its  details  of  coral  lips, 
parting  over  teeth  like  white  shells,  richest  pink 
cheeks  and  a  full,  strong,  pink  chin,  that  no  one 
could  withhold  the  meed  of  admiration  which  this 
magnificent  girl  demanded.  She  had  such  a  cool, 
superior  way  of  looking  at  people,  with  steady 
eyes  and  even  eyelids,  that  even  this  worldly  wise 
captain  wondered  if  the  girl  were  a  perfect  woman 
of  the  world,  supremely  conscious  of  her  own 
charms,  or  was  she  simply  utterly  ignorant  and 
therefore  unconscious  of  the  impression  she  made 
upon  every  one  who  saw  her. 

Both  girls  were  dressed  in  white;  but  Ellen's 
dress  fluttered  and  broke  into  endless  intricacies  of 
bows,  ends,  ribbons,  flounces  and  rosettes,  while 
Dian's  hung  in  long,  simple,  classic  folds  from  the 
short,  baby  waist  to  the  toe  of  the  tiny  boots. 
Clearly,  thought  the  captain,  as  his  artistic  eye* 
noted  these  details,  some  inherent  art  has  taught 
these  two  girls  the  secret  of  their  own  beauty  and 
how  best  to  emphasize  it. 

All  these  thoughts  flashed  through  the  captain's 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN        91 

mind  in  an  instant;  and  yet,  if  he  was  shrewd 
enough  to  cease  his  earnest  attention  to  the  girls 
before  it  became  noticeable,  his  mind  was  busy  all 
that  afternoon,  in  spite  of  the  effort  to  control  his 
words,  with  surmises  and  a  most  natural  desire  to 
see  more  and  hear  something  about  these  beauti- 
ful girls. 

As  the  party  came  into  the  house,  Diantha  found 
herself  close  to  tall,  quiet  John  Stevens.  She 
looked  at  him  in  surprise ;  she  did  not  remember  to 
have  seen  John  look  so  handsome.  He  had  on  a 
new  suit,  and  he  looked  so  clean  and  wholesome, 
so  true  and  so  brave  that  she  instinctively  accord- 
ed him  a  rather  more  gracious  smile  than  she  alto- 
gether intended.  She  did  not  notice  this  latter 
fact,  however,  until  she  saw  how  coolly  he  accept- 
ed her  unusual  demonstration  of  welcome.  Then, 
to  be  sure  she  felt  humiliated  to  think  that  she 
had  been  even  a  little  glad  to  see  him. 

"Did  you  ever  see  Ellen  Tyler  look  so  sweet  in 
her  life?"  asked  John.  "Ellen  is  a  fine  girl." 

Now,  Dian  was  and  always  had  been  a  very  gen- 
erous girl,  but  this  unexpected  and  utterly  un- 
called for  remark  on  the  part  of  John  Stevens  was 
not  precisely  to  her  liking.  But  as  he  looked  so 
unconscious  of  her  pleasure  or  displeasure,  she 
wisely  refrained  from  offering  any  sharp  admoni- 
tion or  spicy  council,  as  was  so  natural  to  practical 
Dian. 

"I  am  of  the  opinion  that  your  gay  captain  has 


»2         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  same  way  of  thinking,"  she  answered,  and  as 
she  spoke,  John  looked  in  the  captain's  direction, 
and  he,  too,  could  see  the  vain  attempts  of  the  offi- 
cer to  keep  his  eyes  away  from  Ellen's  fascinating 
features.  At  once  John  sauntered  up  to  Ellen  and 
never  in  her  life  had  Ellen  known  this  reticent 
man  to  show  so  much  animation  and  gay  interest 
in  her  as  he  did  that  afternoon. 

"Why,  John,"  asked  Ellen  herself,  banteringly, 
"what  has  come  over  you?  I  have  tried  my  best 
to  go  with  you  for  two  years  past  and  you  have 
insisted  on  being  only  friendly  and  brotherly  and 
all  that ;  and  just  now,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  you 
are  trying  pretty  hard  to  flirt  with  me.  What's 
it  all  about,  anyway?" 

John  answered  her  in  his  grave,  quizzical  way 
that  his  meaning  was  even  more  earnest  than  ap- 
parent, and  then  begged  her  to  go  out  in  the  gar- 
den while  the  others  were  at  supper. 

"I  can't  possibly,  I  must  help  wait  on  the  table, 
you  know.  I  am  to  have  special  charge  of  the 
head  of  the  table,  so  won't  I  have  a  fine  chance  to 
catch  the  captain's  eye?" 

Just  then  Diantha  was  invited  to  sing,  and  she 
sat  down  to  the  little  melodeon  with  modest  as- 
surance. After  she  had  sung  twice,  Harvey  joined 
her  with  his  concertina,  and  they  both  sang  and 
played  with  charming  compliance  to  the  repeated 
calls  of  "more,  more." 

Finding  that  it  was  impossible  to    take    Ellen 


THE  WINTHROPS  ENTERTAIN        93 

away,  John  followed  the  party  into  the  dining 
room,  and  was  delighted  to  find  himself  seated 
next  to  Captain  Van  Arden.  He  felt  all  the  cur- 
rent of  mutual  admiration  and  silent  understand- 
ing that  passed  between  the  lively  girl  and  the 
blue-coated  stranger,  and  he  ground  his  teeth  in 
silent  rage  that  he  was  unable  wholly  to  intercept 
the  glances  and  occasional  words  that  passed  be- 
tween them. 

After  dinner  Bishop  Winthrop  led  the  way  to 
the  gardens,  and  the  talk  turned  upon  the  deter- 
mination of  the  President  and  his  people  to  leave 
this  whole  city  in  ruins  behind  them  after  their 
flight  to  the  mountains,  provided  the  army  should 
obtain  entrance  to  the  valley. 

The  captain  was  walking  with  Aunt  Clara, 
whose  gentle  face  and  charming  manner  had  cap- 
tured his  heart  completely.  He  felt  that  she  was  a 
good  and  noble  woman,  and  he  wondered  how  all 
this  sanguinary  talk  would  affect  so  womanly  a 
creature. 

He  looked  down  into  the  kindly  black  eyes  and 
remarked : 

"I  hope,  madam,  that  with  such  gentle  counsels 
as  yours,  these  strong  men  will  not  carry  out  such 
a  dismal  threat  as  the  President  has  just  voiced.  I 
could  not  imagine  tender  women  and  helpless 
children  driven  from  these  peaceful  homes  and  in- 
viting surroundings." 

"Be  assured  that  if  our  brothers  and  fathers 


94         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

feel  that  it  is  best  for  us  to  give  up  our  homes  and 
once  more  be  wanderers  upon  the  earth,  we 
women  will  accompany  them  as  cheerfully  as  if  we 
were  taking  the  safest  pleasure  journey.  I  know 
of  no  cowards  among  our  women." 

"What,  madam,  would  you  consent  to  see  this 
beautiful  home  destroyed  and  this  fruitful  orchard 
ruined?" 

"Yes,  I  would  not  only  consent  to  it,  but  with 
my  own  hands  set  fire  to  my  house,  and  cut  down 
every  tree  in  the  orchard  and  uproot  every  plant." 

The  captain  stood  in  silent  amazement.  What 
was  the  moving  force  that  bound  this  singular  peo- 
ple to  such  united  action !  Surely  there  was  a  so- 
ciological puzzle  here  for  some  philosopher  to 
fathom. 

The  party  soon  dispersed,  and  other  days  of  like 
pleasure  made  the  hours  fly  until  the  Captain  had 
been  in  the  valley  nearly  a  week. 


IX 
JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH 

N  the  following  Sabbath  Captain  Van  Ar- 
den  attended  divine  service,  and  he  was 
not  as  surprised  as  he  would  have  been 
a  week  ago,  to  hear  and  see  the  calm, 
mighty  courage  which  animated  every  face  and 
spoke  in  every  voice.  Here  was  a  handful  of 
wronged  and  hunted  religionists,  whose  only 
crime  was  in  desiring  to  serve  God  in  a  way  pe- 
culiar to  themselves.  He  had  walked  the  streets 
at  darkest  midnight,  and  not  once  had  he  seen  or 
heard  one  word  of  drunkenness,  ribaldry  or  ob- 
scenity. He  had  failed  to  find  any  traces  of  li- 
centiousnss,  such  as  the  ugly  rumors  he  had  heard 
before  coming  here,  had  led  him  to  expect.  In- 
stead, he  felt  himself  surrounded  by  an  implac- 
able circle  of  watchful  care,  which  prevented  him 
from  entering  into  any  relations  with  women,  even 
the  harmless  one  of  mild  flirtation  with  the  pretty 
brown-haired  girl  he  had  met  at  Bishop  Win- 
throp's  home.  Certainly  he  had  received  some  en- 
larged ideas  on  the  subject  of  religious  persecu- 
tion. 

He  listened  attentively  to  Apostle  John  Taylor, 


96         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

who,  at  the  close  of  his  remarks,  repeated  the 
statement  he  had  heard  before,  that  the  army 
should  not  be  allowed  to  enter  the  Valley;  and 
then,  in  ringing  tones,  the  preacher  asked  all  who 
would  apply  the  torch  to  their  dwellings,  cut  down 
their  trees  and  lay  waste  their  farms,  to  raise  their 
hands. 

The  captain  rose  in  his  seat  to  see  the  effect  of 
this  powerful  appeal.  Not  one  hand  in  that  vast 
assembly  of  four  thousand  people,  was  left  to  rest 
in  cowardly  silence  in  its  owner's  lap;  but  like  a 
unit,  the  clouds  of  hands  arose.  Some  horny  and 
worn  with  toil  and  poverty ;  others,  soft  and  white 
with  youth  and  womanhood ;  and  even  little  chil- 
dren in  their  eager,  unconscious  zeal,  elevated 
their  hands  high  in  sympathy  with  their  elders. 

The  captain  felt  awed  and  overcome.  Up  in  his 
throat  rose  a  lump  of  sympathy  and  admiration 
for  this  heroic  people.  He  expected  to  find  a  sedi- 
tious and  priest-ridden  community,  mouth-valiant 
and  few  in  number,  whom  the  mere  appearance  of 
troops  would  tame  into  submission.  He  found  in- 
stead, a  handful  of  enthusiasts  rising  against  the 
might  of  a  great  nation. 

When  President  Young  arose  to  speak  the  Cap- 
tain felt  a  genuine  response  in  his  own  breast  to 
the  vigorous  and  manly  sentiments  uttered  by  the 
"Mormon"  leader: 

"When  the  time  comes  to  lay  waste  our 
dwellings  and  our  improvements,  if  any  man  un- 


JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH  97 

dertakes  to  shield  his,  he  will  be  treated  as  a 
traitor.  Now,  the  faint-hearted  can  go  in  peace, 
but  should  that  time  come,  they  must  not  inter- 
fere. Before  we  will  again  suffer  as  we  have  in 
times  gone  by,  there  shall  not  one  building.nor  one 
foot  of  lumber,  nor  a  fence,  nor  a  tree,  nor  a  par- 
ticle of  grass  or  hay  that  will  burn,  be  left  in  the 
reach  of  our  enemies.  I  am  sworn  if  driven  to 
the  last  extremities,  utterly  to  lay  waste  this  land 
in  the  name  of  Israel's  God,  and  our  enemies  shall 
find  it  as  barren  as  when  we  came  here." 

At  the  close  of  the  services  the  Captain  sought 
President  Young,  surrounded  by  his  friends  and 
associate  pioneers;  the  officer  grasped  and  held 
the  hand  of  the  maligned  leader,  and  with  a  voice 
shaken  with  emotion,  declared  his  sympathy  and 
fellowship  with  this  band  of  earnest  enthusiasts. 

"President  Young,  my  whole  heart  goes  out  to 
you  in  this  cause.  I  am  sure  no  one  in  the  central 
government  understands  the  real  condition  of  af- 
fairs here.  I  shall  hasten  to  President  Buchanan 
and  when  he  understands  the  true  situation,  be 
assured  there  will  be  a  cessation  of  this  war-likf 
movement." 

'Perhaps,"  said  the  President,  "he  will  not  ac- 
cept your  version  of  the  affair." 

"He  must  listen ;  he  shall  be  convinced.  By  the 
eternal  heavens,  if  our  government  pushes  this 
matter  to  the  extent  of  making  war  upon  you,  I 
will  withdraw  from  the  army,  for  I  will  not  have  a 

7 


$8         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

hand  in  the  shedding  of  the  blood  of  American 
citizens." 

"We  shall  trust  in  God,  Captain.  He  will  open 
our  way  before  us.  Congress  has  promptly  sent 
investigating  committees  to  Kansas  and  other 
places  as  occasion  has  required ;  but  upon  the  mer- 
est rumor,  it  has  sent  two  thousand  armed  soldiers 
to  destroy  the  people  of  Utah,  without  investigat- 
ing the  matter  at  all." 

"The  government  may  yet  send  an  investigating 
committee  to  Utah,  and  consider  it  good  policy  to 
do  so,  before  they  get  through." 

"I  believe  that  God  has  sent  you  here,  Captain 
Van  Arden,  and  that  good  wil  grow  out  of  it.  I 
was  glad  when  I  heard  you  had  come." 

"I  am  anxious  to  get  back  to  Washington  as 
soon  as  I  can.  I  have  heard  officially  that  General 
Harney  has  been  removed  to  Kansas.  I  shall  stop 
the  trains  at  Ham's  Fork  on  my  own  responsibil- 
ity." 

"If  we  can  keep  peace  for  this  winter,  I  think 
that  something  will  transpire  that  will  stop  the 
shedding  of  blood.  God  bless  you,  captain,  in  all 
your  labors  and  efforts  to  bring  about  so  desirable 
a  condition." 

Notwithstanding  the  gallant  captain's  gener- 
osity and  nobility,  John  Stevens,  who  had  heard 
every  word  uttered  between  him  and  his  own  be- 
loved leader,  was  greatly  pleased  and  relieved  to 


JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH  99 

receive  orders  to  accompany  the  Captain  early  the 
next  morning  on  his  homeward  destination. 

John  felt  no  shadow  of  fear  or  doubt  about  the 
coming  issue  between  the  picked  army  of  the 
United  States  and  the  struggling  guerillas  of  his 
own  Territory ;  but  it  filled  his  soul  with  a  vague 
dread  and  alarm  to  look  forward  to  a  possible  con- 
tact between  the  youth  of  his  people  and  the  allur- 
ing sins  and  vices  of  the  world  at  large. 

He  was  surprised,  therefore,  as  the  two  men 
rode  along  in  the  cool,  September  morning,  up 
through  the  rough  canyon  gorges,  to  have  the  cap- 
tain turn  to  him  with  a  question  upon  the  very 
subject  which  was  occupying  his  own  thoughts. 

"Stevens,  was  I  wrong  in  supposing  that  al- 
though your  people  greeted  me  with  such  noble 
welcomes,  yet  there  was  a  barier  raised  between 
any  especial  friendliness  between  me  and  any  of 
your  women?" 

"Did  you  make  any  effort  to  be  especially  fa- 
miliar with  our  women?"  asked  John,  cautiously. 

"Ah,  Stevens,  you  are  a  genuine  Yankee.  You 
answer  my  question  by  asking  another;  and  I 
may  not  care  to  commit  myself.  You  have  some 
very  fascinating  and  really  intelligent  women 
among  your  people.  I  saw  some  lovely  faces  in 
your  bowery  yesterday." 

"Well,  yes,  our  girls  are  tolerably  good-look- 
ing." 

"Oh,  Stevens,  no  wonder  your  girls  long  for  a 


100       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

breath  of  worldly  freedom,  if  all  your  young  men 
are  as  cautious  and  unenthusiastic  about  them  as 
you  seem  to  be,"  laughed  the  captain. 

"Do  our  girls  long  for  worldly  pleasures?" 

"Another  question;  I  see,  my  taciturn  friend, 
that  the  only  way  to  open  your  oyster  of  a  mouth 
is  to  turn  confidential  myself  and  open  my  own 
heart  to  you.  I  confess  to  some  curiosity  as  to 
the  inner  condition  of  your  social  affairs.  Now, 
I  am  quite  willing  to  further  confess  that  I  was 
never  more  impressed  with  the  grace  and  magnifi- 
cence of  womanhood  than  I  was  when  I  saw  it 
embodied  in  those  two  young  girls  I  met  at  your 
Bishop  Winthrop's.  Such  unconscious  charm  and 
beauty,  I  had  never  seen  before.  And  the  brown- 
haired  one  was  evidently  not  unkindly  disposed 
to  me ;  however,  of  course  I  had  not  time,  even  if 
I  had  been  given  the  opportunity  to  go  deeper 
than  a  profound  admiration  for  the  lovely  and 
winsome  sprite.  She  was  not  forward,  although 
perfectly  free  and  familiar,  if  I  may  so  express  it." 

"Did  Ellen,  for  that  is  her  name,  express  to  you 
any  such  feelings  as  you  infer  our  girls  possess?" 

"Well,  yes;  she  casually  mentioned  her  desire 
to  see  and  know  something  of  the  great,  beautiful, 
unknown  world  stretching  out  behind  these  rug- 
ged mountains." 

"And  you?" 

"I  was  a  guest  and  a  stranger,  and,  I  hope,  also 
a  gentleman.  I  could  not  but  admire  and  be  im- 


JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH  101 

pressed  by  her  innocence,  but  I  also  respected  and 
guarded  it." 

"I  believe  you  are  a  good  man,  Captain  Van 
Arden ;  but  you,  are  not  of  our  faith.  And  if  you 
read  the  old  Scriptures,  you  will  find  that  God  sets 
a  curse  on  those  of  His  chosen  people  who  marry 
with  unbelievers.  God  surely  knows  why  this 
should  be  so." 

"I  can't  see  for  the  life  of  me,  why  one  good 
man  is  not  as  good  as  another;  if  you  believe  in 
the  Bible,  you  must  acknowledge  that  we  are  all 
one  family,  and  all  children  of  one  Father.  Why 
should  you  presume  to  be  better  than  I?" 

"It  is  not  an  assumption,  or  an  impudence. 
There  is  an  eternal  law  which  underlies  this  prin- 
ciple. Perhaps  I  cannot  make  it  plain  to  you,  but 
it  exists,  else  God  would  not  have  announced  it. 
God  is  a  Master  gardener.  He  does  not  mix  His 
blooms  and  fruits,  but  sets  each  to  multiply  with 
each ;  nor  does  He  ever  mix  the  birds  and  animals ; 
else  sterility  would  result.  But  to  His  children 
He  has  given  their  agency  as  their  dearest  pos- 
session ;  and  they  use  that  agency  like  the  reckless 
spend-thrifts  and  bunglers  that  they  are.  Only 
man  may  mix  his  seed  and  still  retain  a  measure 
of  fertility.  We  are  eternal.  Our  spirits  sang  to- 
gether when  this  earth  was  created,  and  to  each 
is  alloted  a  time  and  a  destiny;  but  always  our 
free  agency  comes  in  to  disturb  and  confuse  that 
destiny.  Yet,  only  by  using  that  free  agency,  can 


102       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

we  work  out  our  exaltation  in  the  world  to  come. 
If  we  would  be  prudent,  we  would  let  the  great 
Gardener  train  and  trim  our  lives  to  His  own 
matchless  design.  It  is  the  ancient  Hebrews, 
who  have  preserved  to  the  world  the  best  that  we 
know  of  home,  brotherhood,  love,  and  life  eter- 
nal ;  and  in  their  national  individuality  and  history 
we  have  the  most  perfect  example  of  the  fruits  of 
careful  breeding.  Where  they  have  observed  the 
traditions  of  the  fathers,  they  are  strong,  domes- 
tic, clean,  faithful,  loving  and  true.  This  factj 
with  all  the  Israelite's  faults,  is  the  lamp  which 
has  lighted  Christianity  for  the  rest  of  mankind  to 
see  by.  If  the  Jews  had  mixed  with  all  creation, 
where  would  their  autonomy  be  today?  Why 
shall  the  true  Christian  hesitate  to  abide  by  an 
eternal  truth  because  of  ridicule?  The  religious 
emotions  are  the  deepest  founts  of  the  human 
soul.  Make  them  muddy,  confuse  their  source, 
and  you  have  lost  their  purity  and  their  worth. 
All  men  may  believe  in  Christ,  but  all  do  not  fol- 
low Him;  for  He  came  to  fulfil,  not  to  abrogate 
the  laws  of  Moses.  Love  is  too  often  the  result  of 
propinquity,  or  passion.  More:  I  am  convinced 
that  God  has  mated  His  children  in  spirit  before 
they  ever  dwelt  upon  this  earth.  There  is  a  divine 
belongingness  in  marriage ;  and  if  we  will  follow 
the  guidance  of  that  unerring  spirit,  we  will  not 
mix  our  lives  nor  confuse  our  destiny;  there  will 
be  no  bungling  confusion  or  muddled  strains  in 


JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH  103 

races  or  religions.  I  do  not  think  all  people  will 
be  converted  to  the  Gospel  in  this  life;  nor  that 
they  could  be.  Nor  that  all  men  and  women  are 
rightly  mated.  But  all  will  have  a  chance  behind 
the  veil,  for  we  hold  the  doctrine  of  salvation  for 
the  dead  to  be  as  true  as  Peter  and  Paul  held  it.* 

"Our  religion,  like  our  politics,  is  much  a  matter 
of  temperament.  But  the  day  will  come  in  the 
great  hereafter,  when  gradually  all  men  will  learn 
and  accept  the  perfect  Gospel  of  peace  and  right. 
Meanwhile,  let  not  those  who  have  been  so  greatly 
blessed  as  to  see  the  Truth,confuse  themselves  and 
weaken  their  powers  for  good  by  joining  them- 
selves for  life  with  those  who  know  not  and  love 
not  the  Truth.  As  is  the  husband,  so  is  the  wife. 
As  is  the  wife,  alas,  so  becomes  the  husband, 
sooner  or  later." 

"Stevens,"  said  the  captain,  "you  can  expound 
and  exhort  like  the  rest  of  your  elders,  even  if  you 
do  not  waste  time  in  general  conversation,"  then 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  the  captain  added,  "You 
recall  to  my  mind  a  scathing  assertion  I  heard 
uttered  by  an  apostate  in  your  Valley.  He  said 
that  you  'Mormons'  believed  that  no  woman 
could  be  exalted  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  with- 
out a  man.  Is  that  so?"  and  the  soldier  looked 
shrewdly  at  his  companion. 

"Yes,  captain;  that  is  correct." 

Astonished  by  this  frank  admission,  the  captain 

*Read  I  Peter,  3rd  chap.,  verses  18  to  20;  also  I  Peter, 
chap.  4,  verse  6,  and  I  Corinthians,  chap.  15,  verse  29.) 


104       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

rode  on  in  silence  for  some  moments.  Then,  as 
if  to  add  point  to  his  rejoinder,  John  Stevens  drew 
in  his  horse,  and  turned  in  his  saddle  to  look  his 
companion  full  in  the  eye : 

"Yes,  sir,  that  is  our  belief.  But  we  also  hold 
that  no  man  can  be  exalted  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  without  a  woman.  Don't  you  recollect 
that  Paul  says  the  woman  is  not  without  the  man, 
nor  the  man  without  the  woman  in  Christ  Jesus  ?" 

And  long  before  John  had  finished,  the  captain 
was  laughing  so  heartily  that  he  lost  his  reins. 

"Well,  Stevens,  I  give  up.  You  are  a  better 
scriptorian  than  I  am;  even  if  you  may  be  in- 
clined to  appropriate  quotations  a  bit  for  your 
own  advantage.  That's  no  more  than  we  all  do." 

John  shrewdly  put  another  question. 

'Would  you  be  willing  to  see  your  sister  marry 
a  Mormon  elder?" 

The  captain  looked  amused,  then  amazed. 

"Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  'Mormons'  are 
orthodox  Christians?" 

'I  imply  nothing.  I  only  wondered  if  you  would 
be  wiling  to  have  your  sister  marry  any  virtuous 
man,  no  matter  what  his  other  condition  might  be, 
spiritual  or  physical." 

"Well,  Stevens,  I  fear  I  could  not  convince  you, 
and  you  only  further  puzzle  me.  One  thing, 
though,  I  do  maintain,  and  that  is,  that  every 
American  citizen,  woman  as  well  as  man,  should 


JOHN  OPENS  HIS  MOUTH  105 

have  the  right  to  choose  his  own  path  and  com- 
panion in  life.  It  is  our  birthright.* 

"It  is,  when  we  are  old  enough  to  know  our  own 
mind ;  but  you  would  not  throw  your  half-grown 
son  and  daughter  in  the  midst  of  temptation  and 
leave  them  there  unprotected,  to  carry  out  that  ar- 
gument." 

"Perhaps  not,  perhaps  not.  You  have  given  me 
new  food  for  thought,  and  I  already  have  much 
new  and  valuable  material  for  reflection  and 
study.  Let  us  hasten  now  or  we  may  not  reach 
our  evening  camp  before  dark." 

As  he  lay  in  camp  that  night,  the  conversation 
repeated  itself  over  and  over  in  the  troubled  mind 
of  John  Stevens.  Oh,  what  was  the  right?  How 
he  trembled  at  the  thought  of  strange  and  scorn- 
ful men  being  brought  into  this  peaceful  valley, 
and  left  to  corrupt  and  estrange  our  thoughtless 
youths  and  beautiful  girls. 

He  knew  something  of  the  moral  conditions  of 
men  in  the  world  and  he  also  knew  much  of  men 
in  general.  He  felt  that  nothing  but  the  keenest 
religious  conscience  could  protect  men  from  im- 
morality of  life.  He  raised  his  hand  in  silent  ag- 
ony to  heaven,  and  swore  that  his  whole  strength 
and  life  should  be  devoted  to  protecting  and 
shielding  the  youth  from  this  terrible  fate — that 
of  too  many  youths  in  the  outside  world.  And  yet, 
as  he  himself  had  said,  there  was  the  divine  right 
of  self-choice,  or  man's  agency.  He  groaned  as 


iv/6       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  consequences  of  thrusting  upon  innocent  and 
helpless  women,  as  would  be  done,  opportunities 
to  seek  their  companions  among  camp-followers, 
miners,  and  other  transients  of  that  day.  Human 
agency  was  an  agency  fraught  with  dire  conse- 
quences. Would  we  have  to  meet  its  terrible  re- 
sponsibility, he  asked  himself? 

What  did  the  future  hold  in  store  for  this  hunt- 
ed and  persecuted  people?  God  alone  knew!  It 
was  so  difficult  for  a  man  of  John's  temperament 
to  say  God's  will  be  done,  when  it  involved  the 
life,  or  worse,  perhaps,  the  virtue  of  men  and 
women.  For  he  feared  for  the  virtue  of  the  youths 
among  his  people  quite  as  much  as  he  dreaded  the 
temptations  to  be  offered  to  the  maidens.  To  John 
Stevens  virtue,  of  both  man  and  woman,  was  far 
dearer  than  life. 

He  felt  as  if  he  must  arise,  and  with  mighty 
power,  seize  and  flee  with  his  loved  ones  to  the 
safe  fastnesses  of  the  mountains. 


X 
IN  ECHO  CANYON 

T  was  a  lovely  day  in  the  last  of  Septem- 
ber, a  few  days  after  the  occurrences  re- 
lated in  our  last  chapter.  The  air  was 
cool,  crisp,  and  full  of  the  odor  of  pine 
and  sagebrush.  In  a  mountain  retreat,  around  a 
gleaming  fire,  sat  a  group  of  men  with  serious, 
eager  faces,  and  their  talk  was  carried  on  in  guard- 
ed tones. 

The  country  was  wild  and  barren,  except  that 
here  and  there  along  the  course  of  a  stream  the 
willows  and  brush  gave  a  little  protection  to  man 
and  beast.  On  a  low  hill-side  to  the  right  of  the 
camp-fire,  were  tethered  horses,  picking  a  scant 
supper  from  the  fall-dried  plain.  Not  very  far  away 
yawned  a  huge  black  opening  in  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  which  gave  the  name  of  Cache  Cave  to 
the  spot. 

The  leader  of  the  party,  General  Daniel  H. 
Wells,  sat  in  the  center  of  the  council,his  fine  large 
head  and  prominent  features  giving  him  a  massive 
appearance  well  calculated  to  inspire  respect  and 
confidence.  He  was  listening  to  some  recital  of  a 
recent  expedition  from  the  lips  of  a  tall,  red- 
bearded,  slow-spoken  man. 


108       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"What  did  General  Harney  say  when  Captain 
Van  Arden  had  explained  to  him  the  condition  in 
our  Territory?"  asked  the  General. 

"The  General  replied  with  an  oath,  'I  am  or- 
dered to  Salt  Lake  City,  and  I  will  winter  there  or 
in  hell.' " 

The  men  around  the  camp-fire  uttered  various 
exclamations  of  determination  that  the  violent 
general  should  be  well  supplied  with  opportuni- 
ties to  join  his  friends  in  the  latter  warm  retreat. 

On  the  right  of  General  Wells  sat  an  immense, 
broad-shouldered  fellow,  bearded  and  with  eyes 
like  an  eagle.  He  said  little,  and  kept  his  face  in 
his  hands  while  listening  to  the  report  of  his  fel- 
low-soldier, Stevens. 

"Major  Smith,"  remarked  General  Wells,  turn- 
ing to  this  silent,  keen-eyed  giant-like  officer,  "you 
will  at  once  proceed  to  the  enemy's  camp,  and  de- 
liver these  documents  which  have  been  entrusted 
to  my  care  by  Governor  Young.  Wait  for  a  reply, 
see  all  you  can,  hear  all  you  can,  and  make  your- 
self, if  possible,  more  familiar  with  the  country 
surrounding  us  than  you  are  at  the  present. 
There  is  much  for  you  to  do  in  the  near  future,  if 
we  would  prevent  this  army  from  entering  the 
Valley  this  winter.  Do  you  wish  any  one  to  ac- 
company you?" 

'No,  sir,  I  am  foot-loose,  and  when  alone,  can 
ride  as  fast  as  I  please." 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  169 

Accordingly,  that  night,  while  the  others  were 
fitfully  sleeping,  Major  Lot  Smith  proceeded  sil- 
ently out  of  the  camp  to  go  on  his  mission  to  the 
United  States  army,  now  pressing  forward  to 
Fort  Winfield.  Not  a  detail  of  the  lonely  road, 
not  a  bush  nor  rock;  not  the  slightest  undulation 
in  the  silent  hills  escaped  the  keen  eyes  of  this 
traveler. 

Arrived  at  the  army's  headquarters,  Major  Lot 
Smith  was  conducted  to  the  United  States  Gen- 
eral's tent,  where  he  was  received  with  great  dig- 
nity. His  papers  delivered,  he  waited  in  stern 
silence,  the  reply  of  a  tall,  heavy-set,  dark-com- 
plexioned man,  whose  prolonged  silence  gave  him 
an  opportunity  to  observe  underneath  the  appar- 
ent coldness,  a  shade  of  anxiety  and  care  on  the 
officer's  face,  which  the  eagle  eyes  under  the 
heavy  red  brows  read  as  plainly  as  he  did  the 
rock-strewn  roadway  along  which  he  had  trav- 
eled. 

"Major-General  Harney  has  been  ordered  back 
to  Kansas,"  remarked  Col.  Alexander,  after  read- 
ing the  despatches,  "and  Colonel  Johnston,  who 
succeeds  him,  will  be  here  in  a  few  days.  Mean- 
while, I  will  myself  undertake  to  reply  to  these  re- 
markable documents,  and  shall  send  the  answer 
by  you,  if  you  can  wait  for  a  few  hours." 

'I  am  here  under  orders  to  await  the  answers  to 
these  papers,  sir,"  answered  Smith. 


110       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Very  well,  my  men  will  attend  to  your  needs, 
and  while  you  are  eating  dinner,  your  horse  shall 
receive  attention." 

Lot  Smith  made  no  reply,  but  bowed  himself 
out  of  the  presence  of  the  officer.  Instead  of  ac- 
cepting any  hospitality  for  himself,  he  eagerly,  yet 
quietly,  spent  the  few  hours  of  his  stay,  in  master- 
ing every  detail  of  the  camp,  and  fixing  upon  his 
mind  every  word  he  chanced  to  overhear  from  the 
soldiers. 

He  soon  ascertained  that  the  present  command- 
ing officer  was  Colonel  Alexander,  and  that  the 
colonel  was  in  some  anxiety  as  to  what  move  to 
make  next.  Smith  discovered  this  from  the  re- 
marks of  a  young,  dark-mustached  officer,  who 
sat  chatting  with  his  companion  outside  of  a  tent 
door,  utterly  oblivious  that  "Mormon"  ears  were 
taking  note  of  his  extravagances. 

"I  have  told  the  Colonel  repeatedly,"  announced 
this  young  braggart,  "that  the  only  honorable  and 
manly  course  to  pursue,  is  to  follow  the  plan  laid 
out  by  Harney.  Harney  is  a  trump,  by  — ,  and  I 
wish  we  had  him  here  again  instead  of  this  waver- 
ing, chicken-hearted  present  administration.  All 
we  have  to  do  is  to  secure  most  of  our  troops  and 
supplies  in  Fort  Winfield ;  then  a  few  hundred  of 
us  with  our  knap-sacks  on  our  back  could  make 
the  valley  in  a  few  days,  surprise  the  fanatics  and 
poltroons  down  there,  take  possession  of  old  Brig- 
ham's  harem  for  our  own  comfort  and  pleasure, 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  ill 

quarter  our  men  in  their  church,  and  the  thing  is 
done." 

"Old  Brigham  himself  might  have  something  to 
say  about  that,"  remarked  one  of  the  loungers  at 
the  tent  door.  'Van  Arden  says  he  is  a  fighter  of 
no  mean  ability." 

"Bah!  Van  Arden  is  easily  frightened.  The 
very  first  thing  to  be  done  is,  of  course,  to  string 
up  such  rabble  as  Young,  Kimball  and  Wells, 
with  others  of  their  ilk,  to  the  nearest  tree.  I  have 
no  patience  with  men  who  play  into  the  hands  of 
heathens  and  tricksters.  What  were  we  sent  out 
here  for,  anyway?" 

The  young  man  looked  around  the  circle  with  a 
sneer  upon  his  handsome  mouth,  and  as  he  met 
the  eyes  of  one  or  another,  they  gave  him  varying 
replies  either  by  word  or  by  glance. 

"I  don't  think  any  one  knows  just  exactly  what 
we  were  sent  out  here  for,"  at  last  answerd  the 
tall,  gray-eyed  man  who  had  spoken  before.  "I 
don't  know  that  Harney,  Alexander  or  even  Bu- 
chanan himself  knows  exactly  what  we  were  sent 
here  for.  Presumably  to  install  Gumming  in  the 
office  to  which  the  President  has  appointed  him." 

"And  do  you  think  that  it  will  take  the  flower  of 
the  American  army,  and  millions  of  dollars  to  do 
so  simple  a  thing  as  that?  Come,  now,  Saxey, 
you  are  not  so  innocent  as  that.  We  have  a  whole 
Territory  to  subdue  and  the  seditious  priests  of 
this  most  villainous  community  are  to  be  tried 


il2       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  hanged,  or  hanged  anyway.  That's  what  I 
came  out  here  for." 

"Well,  I  am  prepared  to  follow  my  orders,  no 
matter  what  they  may  be ;  but  I  have  no  desire  to 
take  part  in  street  fights,  or  brawls  such  as  was 
witnessed  in  Illinois  ten  years  ago,  when  the  lead- 
ers of  this  people  were  killed  by  the  border  ruf- 
fians of  that  State.  I  know  something  of  this  peo- 
ple from  my  brief  association  with  a  part  of  the 
"Mormon"  Battalion,  which  answered  our  gov- 
ernment's call  for  troops  to  march  into  Lower  Cal- 
ifornia. I  never  saw  a  braver  or  more  devoted 
body  of  men.  And  I  will  not  be  a  party  to  another 
outrage  upon  an  innocent  people."  So  spake  Col. 
Saxey,  gentleman,  soldier  and  man. 

"You  and  I  do  not  indulge  in  street  fights  or 
brawls,"  replied  the  braggart,  "but  we  are  deter- 
mined to  see  order  and  decency  maintained  in  this 
government,  no  matter  if  it  be  at  the  cost  of  a  few 
lives  of  such  lecherous  scoundrels  as  old  Brig- 
ham  and  his  priests.  Why,  their  doings  are  a 
blotch  on  the  escutcheon  of  our  proud  country. 
It  is  an  introduction  into  our  midst  of  the  rotten 
lives  and  practices  of  the  Turks  and  Orientals. 
The  manhood  of  this  nation  will  not  endure  it." 

"Let  us  see,  Sherwood,"  interposed  the  grey- 
eyed  man,  withdrawing  his  cigar  to  give  emphasis 
to  his  words,  "how  many  of  Brigham's  daughters 
or  concubines  have  you  decided  shall  form  part 
of  your  establishment  this  winter?" 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  113 

"Oh,  plague  on  your  Quixotism;  you  make  no 
distinction  between  the  amours  of  a  gentleman 
and  the  vile  practices  of  the  heathens  and  'Mor- 
mons.' " 

The  silent  listener  at  the  other  side  of  the  tent 
found  it  impossible  to  keep  his  teeth  from  grind- 
ing together  at  this  moment,  but  he  was  suddenly 
approached  by  a  subaltern  who  requested  him  to 
wait  at  once  upon  the  commanding  officer  for  his 
messages  to  Utah. 

Obtaining  the  despatches,  Major  Smith  started 
upon  the  return  journey.  It  was  high  noon  in  the 
camp  of  the  mountaineers,  when  dusty,  travel- 
stained  Lot  Smith  rode  into  the  small  circle.  He 
was  ushered  into  the  tent  occupied  by  General 
Wells  and  staff  and  there  delivered  his  messages. 
For  the  first  time  since  leaving  his  own  camp, 
the  Major  sat  down  and  proceeded  to  satisfy  a 
soldier's  appetite,  and  although  weary  and  worn 
for  sleep,  he  was  glad  to  satisfy  his  cravings  for 
food  before  resting  or  sleeping. 

The  general  saw  the  worn  condition  of  his 
faithful  officer,  and  ordered  him  to  his  own  tent 
until  the  next  morning.  Meanwhile  a  courier  was 
sent  to  the  valley  with  the  despatches  from  the 
army,  and  a  full  report  from  General  Wells  and 
his  scouts. 

All  that  night  General  Wells  and  his  staff 
talked,  planned,  and  counseled.  It  was  but  little 
after  seven  o'clock  when  the  council  assembled 


114       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  next  morning  to  hear  the  verbal  report  of 
Major  Smith  and  to  decide  upon  future  action. 

"I  overheard  much  of  their  vaunting,  blasphem- 
ous determination  to  enter  the  Valley,  kill  or  im- 
prison our  leaders,  and  to  capture  and  ruin  our 
wives  and  daughters.  There  are  a  few  cautious, 
sensible  men  among  them,  such  as  Col.  Saxey, 
whom  you  all  know  by  reputation  at  least,  but  the 
majority,  especially  the  officers,  who  are  mostly 
young  men  of  hot  passions  and  romantic  tempera- 
ment, are  determined  to  force  Colonel  Alexander 
to  proceed  at  once  to  the  Valley  with  a  light  de- 
tachment, to  be  followed  by  the  masses  of  the 
troops,  as  fast  as  is  convenient." 

"Colonel  Alexander  informs  me  in  his  letter," 
said  General  Wells,"that  he  will  submit  our  letters 
and  despatches  to  General  Johnston  immediately 
upon  that  officer's  arrival  in  camp;  and,  that 
meanwhile  the  troops  are  there  by  order  of  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  and  their  future 
movements  will  depend  upon  the  orders  issued  by 
competent  military  authority." 

'What  shall  we  do  under  these  circumstances?" 
asked  one  of  the  officers. 

"This  is  the  plan  adopted  in  our  council  before 
leaving  Salt  Lake  City,  and  there  sanctioned  by 
President  Young.  We  were  to  ascertain  the  loca- 
tio_n  of  the  troops  as  soon  as  possible,  which  has 
now  been  done  by  Major  Smith.  Then  we  were 
to  proceed  at  once  to  annoy  them  in  every  way 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  115 

possible.  We  are  to  use  every  exertion  to  stam- 
pede their  animals,  and  are  to  set  fire  to  their 
supply  trains  whenever  practicable.  Burn  the 
whole  country  before  them,  and  on  their  flanks. 
Keep  them  from  sleeping  by  nignt  surprises, 
blockade  the  roads  by  felling  trees  or  destroying 
the  river  fords  wherever  we  can.  Watch  for  op- 
portunities to  set  fire  to  the  grass  on  their  wind- 
ward, so  as  to  set  fire  to  their  trains.  Leave  no 
grass  behind  them  that  can  be  burned.  We  are 
to  keep  our  men  concealed  as  much  as  possible, 
and  of  course  we  are  to  guard  ourselves  against 
surprises  continually." 

'What  if  we  meet  a  detachment  and  are  com- 
pelled to  fight,"  asked  one  of  the  men. 

"I  anticipate  no  such  catastrophe,"  answered 
General  Wells.  "Brother  Brigham  has  said  that 
the  Lord  will  fight  our  battles  for  us,  and  if  we 
follow  his  counsel  to  the  letter,  we  shall  also  be 
able  to  comply  with  his  strictest  injunctions, 
which  are,  to  spare  life  always  when  possible,  and 
not  to  shed  a  drop  of  blood  when  it  can  be 
avoided.  'Say  your  prayers  and  keep  your  pow- 
der dry,'  was  his  parting  admonition." 

The  General  sat  some  time  as  if  In  silent  medi- 
tation, and  the  officers  present  remained  silent, 
unwilling  to  disturb  his  reflections. 

At  length  the  chief  raised  his  head,  and  looking 
straight  into  the  eyes  of  Major  Smith,  he  asked: 

"Major,  do  you  think  that  you  can  take  our 


116       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

small  force,  about  forty  men  we  have  here  now, 
and  passing  in  the  rear  of  the  enemy,  turn  back 
and  burn  the  supply  trains  on  the  road?" 

The  Major  returned  the  intent  gaze  of  the  Gen- 
eral, and  while  a  dusky  gleam  shot  through  the 
red-brown  depths  of  his  own  eyes,  he  only  re- 
plied in  words: 

"Yes,  sir;  I  think  I  can." 

"Very  well,  sir,  you  can  consider  yourself  under 
orders  to  carry  out  the  plan  I  have  just  now  indi- 
cated. The  council  is  adjourned." 

That  these  men  could,  at  the  close  of  their  por- 
tentious  council,  kneel  down  and  ask  God  to  bless 
them  and  assist  them  in  their  undertaking,  may 
seem  strange,  but  they  were  banded  together  to 
protect  the  lives  of  their  fellow-men  shut  up  in 
the  narrow  valleys  of  the  lower  country,  and  they 
felt  that  if  God  did  not  interpose  His  power,  the 
soldiers,  accompanied  as  they  were  by  a  horde  of 
blasphemous,  reckless,  licentious  camp-followers 
and  brawlers,  would  not  only  kill  and  plunder,  but 
they  would  also  decoy  and  destroy  their  fair  wives 
and  daughters. 

They  were  facing  no  imaginary  terrors,  for  the 
pangs  of  Illinois  and  Missouri  were  not  yet  blot- 
ted from  the  memory  of  even  their  babes.  No 
blood  would  be  shed,  except  in  self-defense,  but 
every  man  there  was  prepared  to  pour  his  life- 
current  out  like  water  upon  the  ground,  if  neces- 
sary, to  protect  their  beloved  homes  and  families 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  117 

and  their  honored  leaders.  God  was  their  father 
and  to  Him  they  appealed. 

"Say  your  prayers  and  keep  your  powder  dry/' 
had  been  the  counsel  of  President  Young,  and 
they  were  united  as  one  man  to  carry  out  his  in- 
structions. 

One  of  the  first  men  spoken  to  by  Lot  Smith 
was  quiet  John  Stevens,  a  man  after  Smith's  own 
heart.  No  need  of  much  talk  between  these  two, 
as  they  divined  each  other's  wishes  and  purposes 
without  need  for  words  and  explanations. 

There  was  some  delay,  consequent  upon  break- 
ing up  camp,  so  that  it  was  early  twilight  when 
the  small  detachment  rode  out  upon  the  open 
prairie.  The  Major  called  John  Stevens  to  his 
side,  and  to  him  in  a  few  words  related  as  they 
rode  along  some  of  the  conversation  overheard  in 
the  camp  of  the  enemy. 

As  John  listened  to  the  wicked  threats  of  the 
dissolute  officers  concerning  the  fair  daughters  of 
his  people,  he  was  seized  with  a  sudden,  passion- 
ate anger,  and  for  a  few  moments  he  could  think 
of  nothing  but  to  heap  curses  upon  their  wicked 
heads,  and  he  longed  with  murderous  longing,  to 
have  one  of  them  just  now  under  his  own  clenched 
hands  that  he  might  strangle  the  pride  and  the 
devil  out  of  him. 

His  curses  were  not  uttered  aloud,  however, 
and  when  he  recovered  himself,  he  heard  his  com- 
manding officer  ask: 


118       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"What's  the  matter,  Stevens,  are  you  an- 
noyed?" 

"Perhaps !  I  was  not  old  enough  to  do  any  good 
in  Illinois ;  but  now — well,  I  am  glad,  major,  that 
you  permitted  me  to  accompany  you  on  this  trip." 

"Stevens,  we  are  of  the  same  stripe;  but  we 
must  both  remember  our  orders,  and  no  matter 
what  the  provocation  may  be,  we  must  shed  no 
blood,  unless  compelled  to  do  so.  We  both  under- 
stand this,  and  yet,  it  is  as  hard  for  me  as  it  is  for 
you,  my  friend." 

The  next  morning,  just  before  sunrise,  Major 
Smith  called  John's  attention  to  a  speck  on  the 
eastern  horizon. 

"Let  us  go  forward  carefully,  Stevens ;  we  must 
be  sure  as  to  numbers  and  conditions  of  this  on- 
coming train." 

"There  are  only  half  a  dozen  teams  as  I  make 
them  out." 

An  hour's  ride  verified  Stevens'  keen  power  of 
sight.  Riding  swiftly  up  to  the  flurried  team- 
sters, Lot  Smith  pre-emptorily  ordered  them  to 
turn  back ;  and  turn  back  they  did.  But  our  moun- 
tain soldiers  had  other  work  to  do,  and  so  they 
rode  forward  for  an  hour. 

"Major,  I  have  a  feeling  that  it  would  be  well  to 
take  a  look  again  at  those  teams  we  ordered  to 
follow  us.  I  can't  see  anything  of  their  dust,"  said 
John,  as  they  rode  along. 

The  major  turned  on  his  horse  and  scanned  the 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  119 

horizon  behind  them  with  shaded  eyes  and 
thoughtful  mind. 

"Stevens,  take  fifteen  or  twenty  of  the  boys  and 
go  back  there,  and  see  if  our  orders  have  been 
obeyed.  Meanwhile  I  will  ride  forward  slowly." 

Three  hours  after  this,  Stevens  returned  and  re- 
ported that  he  had  found  the  train  once  more 
headed  westward;  whereupon  he  had  unloaded 
the  freight,  and  set  fire  to  the  whole  lot.  The 
teamsters  were  preparing  to  come  eastward  again 
on  their  animals. 

"Good,  now  let  us  ride  eastward  as  fast  as  we 
can." 

Turning  in  the  direction  of  the  Green  River 
bluffs,  the  men  rode  into  a  small  clump  of  willows 
by  the  stream,  and  decided  to  get  some  sleep  be- 
fore proceeding  further.  It  was  sorely  needed, 
and  proved  refreshing  to  the  band  of  weary  men. 

The  next  morning  before  daybreak  they  were 
in  the  saddle ;  and  before  riding  an  hour,  the  major 
discovered  a  cloud  of  dust  coming  irom  the  old 
'Mormon"  trail. 

Riding  fiercely  into  camp,  Lot  Smith  demanded 
to  see  the  captain. 

"Captain  Simpson  is  out  huntin'  cattle;  and  I 
guess  if  you  want  him  you  will  have  to  hunt  him," 
replied  one  of  the  teamsters. 

'I'll  look  after  your  captain,"  bluntly  announced 
Lot,  and  then  cocking  his  own  gun  as  a  signal  to 
his  men  to  follow  suit,  he  quietly  added,  "but  yo" 


120       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

fellows  can  just  fork  over  your  shooting  irons; 
we  are  wanting  some  implements  of  that  kind  just 
now." 

There  was  a  flash  in  the  red-brown  eyes  of  Lot 
Smith,  and  every  teamster  carefully  gathered  up 
his  pistol  or  gun  and  delivered  it  over  to  Stevens, 
who  distributed  them  among  the  men. 

Leaving  Stevens  in  charge  of  the  camp,  Lot 
Smith  rode  out  to  meet  the  captain,  whose  name 
was  Simpson.  He  was  driving  in  some  animals, 
and  Lot  simply  said :  "Captain,  I  am  here  on  urg- 
ent business." 

The  man  addressed  was  no  coward,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  as  he  demanded  the  nature  of  that  busi- 
ness. 

"Just  hand  over  your  pistols,  and  I  will  let  you 
know  the  nature  of  it,"  answered  Smith. 

Spurring  his  horse  towards  the  train,  Simpson 
replied:  "No  man  ever  took  my  pistols  yet;  and 
if  you  think  you  can  without  first  killing  me,  try 
it." 

They  were  all  the  time  riding  full  gallop  to- 
wards the  train. 

"I  admire  a  brave  man,  captain,  but  I  don't  like 
blood.  You  insist  on  me  killing  you,  which  would 
only  take  a  minute,  but  I  don't  want  to  do  it.  If 
you  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  that  way,  cap- 
tain, instead  of  glaring  into  my  eyes,  you  will  see 
that  your  teamsters  are  in  a  ticklish  situation." 

They  had  ridden  as  close  together  as  their  pant- 


IN  ECHO  CANYON  121 

ing,  reeking  horses  would  allow,  each  looking  fire 
and  death  into  the  blazing  eyes  of  the  other;  but 
when  Simpson  raised  his  eyes  and  saw  his  own 
teamsters  huddled  together,  unarmed  and  shiver- 
ing, under  the  cocked  guns  of  the  mountaineers, 
he  turned  to  Smith  and  muttered:  "You  have  me 
at  a  bitter  disadvantage." 

"We  don't  need  that  advantage,  captain.  What 
would  you  do  if  I  should  give  up  your  arms?" 

"I'll  fight  you,"  answered  the  captain,  between 
his  teeth. 

The  two  had  now  reached  the  camp. 

"Well,  we  know  something  about  that,  too, 
Take  up  your  arms." 

The  teamsters  shrank  back  as  one  man. 

"Not  by  a  d — d  sight,"  one  of  them  exclaimed. 
"We  came  out  here  to  whack  bulls,  and  not  to 
fight." 

"What  do  you  say  to  that,  captain?"  asked 
Smith. 

With  another  violent  oath,  the  captain  ground 
his  teeth  and  replied :  "If  I  had  been  here  before, 
and  they  had  refused  to  fight,  I  would  have  killed 
every  man  of  them." 

Major  Smith  was  too  brave  a  man  not  to  be 
touched  by  this  manly,  yet  reckless  spirit;  and 
after  some  parley  with  Stevens,  he  ordered  his 
men  to  give  Simpson  two  of  the  loaded  guns,  with 
two  of  the  loaded  wagons,  to  keep  his  men  from 
starvation  until  their  return  to  the  Eastern  States, 


122       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  then  ordering  all  out  of  the  way,  he  called  out 
for  a  big  burly  Irishman,  a  non-"Mormon,"  who 
had  followed  Stevens  from  the  trains  the  day  be- 
fore, and  had  offered  to  join  their  forces:  "Here, 
Dawson,  you  can  put  the  torch  to  these  trains ;  it 
is  very  proper  for  the  Gentiles  to  spoil  the  Gen- 
tiles." 

The  whole  train  of  fifty-two  wagons  was 
burned ;  after  which  the  mountaineers  rode  away, 
telling  the  teamsters  that  they  could  take  what 
provisions  they  had  secured  for  themselves  to 
their  comrades,  a  few  miles  away,  and  then  re- 
turn ;  and  if  any  attempt  were  made  to  extinguish 
the  flames,  summary  punishment  would  be  ad- 
ministered to  the  offenders. 


XI 
"IN  THE  VALLEY  OR  HELL" 

•  j,  ,  uHE  details  of  that  peculiar  and  providen- 
I  tial  winter  cf  1857-8  are  written  in  lines 
of  vivid  interest  and  incident  through 
the  pages  of  recorded  history.  The  pen 
would  fain  linger  to  describe  how  Lot  Smith  and 
his  brave  companions  followed  up  their  arranged 
course,  burning  grass  and  trees,  tearing  up 
bridges,  and  demolishing  houses  or  huts  of  shel- 
ter everywhere  along  the  road. 

Fort  Bridger,  the  point  to  which  the  army  of 
Utah  had  made  its  slow,  plainful  way,  was  a  mass 
of  ruins  when  entered  by  Colonel  Albert  Sidney 
Johnston  and  his  half -frozen  soldiers  and  the  rem- 
nants of  his  trains  and  stock.  I  cannot  refrain 
from  giving  the  words  of  the  report  of  this  awful 
march,  made  to  Congresss  by  the  two  command- 
ing officers,  Colonel  Johnston  and  Colonel  St. 
George  Cooke. 

The  condition  of  the  main  division  is  thus  stat- 
ed by  Colonel  Johnston: 

"The  expedition  was  now  ordered  to  Fort  Bridger, 
and  at  every  step  the  difficulties  increased.  There  were 
only  thirty-five  miles  to  be  traversed,  but  excepting  on 


124       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  margin  of  a  few  slender  streams,  the  country 
through  which  our  route  lay  is  the  barest  of  desert  land. 
There  is  no  shelter  from  the  chilly  blasts  of  this  moun- 
tain solitude,  where  even  in  November,  the  thermom- 
eter sometimes  sinks  to  16  degrees  below  zero.  There  is 
no  fuel  but  the  wild  sage  and  willow;  and  there  is  little 
pasture  for  the  half-frozen  cattle.  Our  march  com- 
menced on  the  sixth  of  November,  and  on  the  previous 
night  five  hundred  of  our  strongest  cattle  were  taken  by 
the  'Mormons."  The  trains  extended  over  six  miles, 
and  all  day  long  sleet  and  snow  fell  on  the  retreating 
column.  Some  of  the  men  were  frost  bitten,  and  the 
exhausted  animals  were  goaded  by  their  drivers,  until 
many  of  them  fell  dead  in  their  traces.  At  sunset  the 
troops  camped  wherever  they  could  find  a  particle  of 
shelter,  some  under  bluffs,  and  some  in  the  willow 
copses.  At  daybreak  the  camp  was  surrounded  by  the 
carcasses  of  frozen  cattle,  of  which  several  hundred  had 
perished  during  the  night.  Still,  as  the  trains  arrived 
from  the  rear,  each  one  halted  for  a  day  or  more,  giv- 
ing time  for  the  cattle  to  graze  and  rest  on  such  scant 
herbage  as  they  could  find.  To  press  forward  more  rap- 
idly was  impossible,  for  it  would  have  cost  the  lives  of 
most  of  the  draft  animals;  to  find  shelter  was  equally 
impossible,  there  was  none.  There  was  no  alternative 
but  to  proceed  slowly  and  persistently,  saving  as  many 
as  possible  of  the  horses,  mules  and  oxen.  Fifteen  days 
were  required  for  this  difficult  operation." 

Arrived  at  Fort  Bridget,  though  they  found  the 
whole  place  in  ruins,  the  camp  was  struck,  and 
tents  were  erected.  Here  the  army  of  the  United 
States  wintered,  calling  the  camp  Fort  Scott. 

A  fine  commentary  on  the  foolish  extravagance 
and  thoughtless  waste  of  money  involved  in  the 


"IN  THE  VALLEY  OR  HELL"         125 

fitting  out  of  this  disastrous  campaign  was  fur- 
nished by  the  opening  of  the  few  supply  wagons 
left  them  by  their  relentless  pursuers.  The  wag- 
ons loaded  with  provisions  had  been  burned;  the 
wagons  that  survived  were  filled  with  bedticks 
and  camp  kettles.  For  two  thousand  six  hundred 
men,  wintering  in  a  region  seven  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea  level,  where  at  night  the  thermom- 
eter always  sank  below  zero,  there  were  three 
thousand  one  hundred  and  fifty  bedticks,  and  only 
seven  hundred  and  twenty -three  blankets;  there 
were  one  thousand  five  hundred  pairs  of  epau- 
lettes and  metallic  scales,  but  only  nine  hundred 
coats  and  six  hundred  overcoats ;  there  were  three 
hundred  and  seven  cap-covers,  and  only  one  hun- 
dred and  ninety  caps;  there  were  one  thousand 
and  ninety  military  stocks ;  some  of  the  men  were 
already  barefooted  and  others  had  no  covering  for 
their  feet  but  moccasins,  while  there  were  only 
eight  hundred  and  twenty-three  pairs  of  boots  and 
six  hundred  pairs  of  stockings.  One  wagon  was 
entirely  freighted  with  camp-kettles ;  with  nothing 
to  cook,  and  no  salt  with  which  to  season  their 
nothingness. 

An  extract  from  Colonel  St.  George  Cooke's  re- 
port gives  quite  a  dismal  picture  of  his  own  di- 
vision. He  says: 

"The  north  wind  and  drifting  snow  became  severe; 
the  air  seemed  turned  to  frozen  fo?,  nothing  could  be 
seen ;  we  were  struggling  in  a  freezing  cloud.  The  lofty 


126       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

wall  of  Three  Crossings  was  a  happy  relief;  but  the 
guide  who  had  lately  passed  there  was  relentless  in  pro- 
nouncing that  there  was  no  grass  at  that  point.  As  he 
promised  grass  and  shelter  two  miles  further,  we 
marched  on,  crossing  twice  more  the  rocky  stream,  half- 
choked  with  snow  and  ice;  finally  he  led  us  behind  a 
great  granite  rock,  but  all  too  small  for  the  promised 
shelter.  Only  a  part  of  the  regiment  could  huddle  there 
in  the  deep  snow;  whilst  the  long  night  through  the 
storm  continued,  and  fearful  eddies,  above,  below  and 
behind,  drove  the  falling  and  drifting  snow.  Meanwhile 
the  animals  were  driven  once  more  across  the  stream, 
to  the  base  of  the  granite  ridge,  which  faced  the  storm, 
but  where  there  was  grass.  They  refused  to  eat;  the 
mules  huddled  together,  moaning  piteously,  while  some 
of  the  horses  broke  from  the  guard  and  went  back  to 
the  ford.  The  next  day,  better  camping  ground  was 
reached  ten  miles  farther  on.  On  the  morning  of  the 
eighth,  the  thermometer  marked  44  degrees  below  the 
freezing  point;  but  in  this  weather  and  through  deep 
snow,  the  men  made  eighteen  miles,  and  the  following 
day  nineteen  miles,  to  the  next  camping  ground  on  Bit- 
ter Creek,  on  the  Sweetwater.  On  the  10th,  matters 
were  still  worse.  Herders,  left  to  bring  up  the  rear,  with 
the  stray  mules,  could  not  force  them  from  the  valley, 
and  they  were  left  to  perish.  Nine  horses  were  also 
abandoned.  At  night  the  thermometer  marked  twenty- 
five  degrees  below  zero;  nearly  all  the  tent  pins  were 
broken,  and  nearly  forty  soldiers  and  teamsters  were  on 
the  sick  list,  most  of  them  being  frost-bitten.  The  earth 
has  no  more  lifeless,  treeless,  grassless  desert;  it  con- 
tains scarcely  a  wolf  to  glut  itself  on  the  hundreds  of 
dead  and  frozen  animals  which,  for  thirty  miles,  nearly 
blocked  the  road." 

Such  was  the  condition  in  which  this  flower  of 


"IN  THE  VALLEY  OR  HELL"         127 

the  American  army  found  itself  when  about  ready, 
as  they  supposed,  to  enter  the  Valley  of  the  Great 
Salt  Lake  and  subdue  a  handful  of  unoffending 
and  simple-hearted  people.  Something  was  cer- 
tainly done  by  the  small  band  of  hardy  men  who 
followed  and  surrounded  the  army  with  harassing 
circumstances ;  but  they  did  little  compared  with 
the  forces  which  were  brought  to  bear  by  the 
God  of  nature,  who  undertook  to  fight  this  battle 
according  to  His  own  good  pleasure  and  plan. 


XII 
THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG 

SHE  bright  fire  upon  the  wide  hearthstone 
in  Aunt  Clara's  sitting  room  in  Great 
Salt  Lake  City  seemed  all  the  brighter  to 
the  young  man  who  opened  the  cheeful 
green  door  late  in  the  afternoon  on  the  24th 
day  of  February,  1858.  The  slow  moving  figure 
of  Aunt  Clara  swung  around  from  her  busy  loom 
in  the  corner,  as  she  looked  to  see  who  her  visitor 
was. 

"You,  John?  I  thought  you  were  in  Echo  Can- 
yon or  in  San  Bernardino,  or  on  the  Southern 
Mexican  route." 

"So  I  was  till  this  morning ;  I  have  come  to  see 
if  you  will  take  a  stranger  for  a  few  days,  who  is 
sent  to  you  by  Governor  Young." 

"Anyone  sent  from  President  Young  is  wel- 
come, and  John,  anyone  you  bring  is  welcome 
also." 

John  Stevens  thanked  her  and  added  that  he 
would  return  shortly  with  his  guest,  and  then 
departed  as  silently  and  swiftly  as  he  had  come. 

"Ellen,"  called  Aunt  Clara  to  the  girl  whose 
spinning  wheel  whirred  from  the  kitchen,  "bring 
some  more  wood  for  the  fire-plac*,  and  put  the 


THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG    129 

clean  white  blankets  in  the  front  bedroom.  Have 
we  enough  white  flour  to  make  some  biscuits?" 

Ellen  came  into  the  sitting-room,  followed  by 
her  friend  Dian,  who  was  busily  engaged  in  knit- 
ting at  some  large,  coarse  but  warm  socks.  Dian 
did  not  stop  as  she  walked,  but  knitted  away  as  if 
life  depended  upon  the  "stunt"  being  accom- 
plished before  the  dusk  should  come  upon  her. 

"Why  do  you  want  to  make  biscuits  tonight, 
Aunt  Clara?"  asked  Ellen. 

The  answer  produced  much  scurrying  of  the 
girl's  quick  feet,  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  the 
table  was  set  in  the  clean  front  sitting  room,  shin- 
ing with  the  few  cherished  china  pieces  brought 
from  the  early  colonial  days  into  these  bleak  moun- 
tain valleys  by  this  Puritan  daughter  from  New 
England's  wave-washed  shores.  Ellen  set  some 
eggs  to  wait  their  turn  at  the  great  open  fire-place, 
and  in  the  covered  bake  skillet  were  browning 
the  cream  biscuits  which  only  Aunt  Clara  could 
compound  from  the  various  chemical  resultants 
of  lye  made  from  wood-ashes  and  the  pleasant 
acid  of  soured  cream.  Serviceberry  preserves 
glowed  darkly  through  the  one  precious  glass 
dish,  and  soft  Dutch  cheese  was  molded  into  oval 
richness  on  a  china  saucer.  A  pitcher  of  foaming 
milk  testified  to  its  recent  cold  storage;  and  a 
plate  of  doughnuts  flanked  the  cheese.  It  was  a 
hasty  meal,  but  none  the  less  appetizing ;  and  was 
ready  none  too  soon. 


130       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

A  strong  yet  quick  rap  at  the  front  door  intro- 
duced John  Stevens,  to  be  followed  by  a  dusty, 
travel-stained  man,  of  small  stature,  and  of  an  ex- 
ceedingly dignified  mein,  yet  looking  very  feeble 
and  ill. 

"Mrs.  Tyler,  let  me  introduce  Dr.  Osborne," 
said  John  gravely,  and  the  gentleman  bowed  cour- 
teously over  the  extended  hand  of  his  hostess. 
The  lady  looked  at  the  traveler  with  a  curious  half 
remembrance  in  her  black  eyes,  but  the  "doctor" 
responded  with  only  a  grave  salute,  as  he  followed 
his  hostess  into  the  low-ceiled  bedchamber,  just 
off  the  sitting-room. 

"John,"  said  Aunt  Clara,  when  she  returned,  "I 
have  surely  seen  that  gentleman  somewhere,  but  I 
can't  tell  where  for  the  life  of  me.  He  is  very  tired 
and  looks  sick;"  and  she  gazed  thoughtfully  and 
inquiringly  at  dusty  John  Stevens,  who  only 
stroked  his  long  beard  and  gazed  kindly  at  her 
without  reply. 

"Hurry,  John,"  called  Ellen  from  the  inner 
kitchen  door;  "supper  is  all  ready,  and  if  you  are 
going  to  eat  with  this  gentleman,  you  will  need 
to  hurry  and  wash.  Come  out  here  to  the  porch ; 
I  have  water  and  a  clean  towel  for  you." 

Dian  was  still  knitting  away  for  dear  life,  near 
the  small-framed  west  window ;  John  halted  a  mo- 
ment at  her  side. 

"What's  the  hurry?"  he  asked,  laconically,  as 
he  touched  the  dark  grey  ribbed  stocking  swing- 


THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG    131 

ing  from  the  shining  needles  in  her  deft  fingers. 

"Oh,  it's  for  the  Utah  militia  boys.  Aunt  Clara 
has  kept  us  girls  knitting  and  spinning,  sewing 
and  weaving,  night  and  day,  for  the  soldiers.  We 
don't  mind,  for  it's  all  we  can  do  to  help  along." 

"Any  particular  soldier?"  he  queried,  indifferent- 
ly. Dian  glanced  up  to  discover  a  latent  meaning, 
but  John's  cool  gaze  gave  her  no  clue.  However, 
a  girl  flings  many  chance  shots,  and  some  are  sure 
to  hit.  So  she  replied  with  a  supercilious  accent : 
"Oh,  I  promised  Charlie  Rose  to  knit  all  the  socks 
he  needed  for  the  expedition.  Will  you  take  these 
to  him?" 

"Certainly,"  answered  John,  gravely.  He  turned 
and  left  her,  saying :  "Charlie  will  be  real  grateful 
for  your  kindness." 

"How  provoking  men  can  be,"  thought  Dian. 

Left  with  Dian,  Aunt  Clara  stood  in  the  center 
of  the  floor,  her  dark  eyes  fixed  in  an  absent- 
minded  stare,  so  common  to  her  when  she  was 
trying  to  puzzle  out  some  mental  problem  that 
eluded  her.  Where  had  she  seen  her  visitor? 
Dian  hurried  away  to  her  home  across  the  way, 
ignorant  both  of  Aunt  Clara's  problem  or  its  pos- 
sible solution. 

As  soon  as  the  supper  was  despatched,  Aunt 
Clara  followed  her  two  guests  out  of  the  front 
door,  and  said  softly  to  John,  "Come  back  after 
your  interview  with  the  President,  John;  I  have 
something  to  tell  you." 


132       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

John  nodded  assent,  and  he  and  the  traveler 
melted  away  into  the  freezing  gloom  of  the  win- 
ter's darkness. 

But  John  did  not  return  with  his  visitor  till  af- 
ter midnight,  and  then,  finding  the  front  door  on 
the  latch,  as  was  usual  in  that  safe  and  honest  pio- 
neer town,  he  guided  his  guest  by  the  light  of  the 
fire  into  the  front  chamber,  now  somewhat 
warmed  by  the  open  door  from  the  sitting  room, 
and,  lighting  the  tallow  candle  left  on  the  light- 
stand  by  the  bedside  for  his  guest,  he  softly  made 
all  as  comfortable  as  he  could  and  then  left  the 
traveler  to  seek  a  much-needed  repose. 

Who  was  the  traveler  and  what  was  his  busi- 
ness with  President  Young?  This  was  the 
thought  that  flashed  and  wandered  in  and  out  of 
the  sleepless  brain  of  Aunt  Clara,  hour  after  hour, 
in  that  still  and  cold  night.  She  knew  much  of  her 
people's  inner,  unwritten  history,  for  hers  was  the 
silent  tongue  and  quick  sympathy  which  drew  all 
men,  as  well  as  women,  to  her  tender  heart  and 
warm  hearthstone  for  help  and  counsel.  She  had 
been  the  trusted  friend  of  the  great  Prophet  Jos- 
eph Smith,  and  to  him  she  had  given  more  than 
a  human  devotion ;  she  had  accorded  him  his  place 
beside  the  greatest  martyrs  in  Biblical  history. 
She  was  likewise  the  confidential  friend  of  his 
successor,  Brigham  Young;  to  Aunt  Clara  the 
great  Pioneer  often  looked  when  he  had  a  deli- 
cate task  which  needed  the  quickness  and  subtlety 


THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG  133 

of  a  woman's  help.  And  now  she  could  not  sleep 
till  she  had  puzzled  out  her  puzzle,  and  had  an- 
swered the  challenge  of  her  unerring  memory. 

Daylight  had  brought  the  answer.  Aunt  Clara 
was  up  early,  and,  by  the  light  of  her  candle,  was 
kneading  the  loaves  for  the  day's  baking.  To 
her  soon  came  Ellen,  intent  on  finishing  her  spin- 
ning and  reeling  before  daylight  should  bring 
breakfast  and  interruption. 

"Do  you  suppose  that  this  is  another  of  those 
splendid  United  States  soldiers?"  asked  Ellen,  her 
feet  stepping  off  the  regular  rythm  of  the  whiz- 
zing yarn,  as  it  whirled  and  spun  from  the  steel 
point  into  fine  threads  under  the  flying  fingers  of 
the  industrious  girl.  Her  wheel  paused  in  its  on- 
ward circling  flight  to  catch  Aunt  Clara's  answer : 

"No,  dear;  if  he  were,  John  would  have  taken 
him  down  to  the  Salt  Lake  House.  And  how 
could  John  bring  in  a  soldier?  They  are  all  out 
east.  John  has  been  down  to  San  Bernardino." 

Evidently  Aunt  Clara  herself  had  been  busy 
with  the  same  question,  which  still  did  not  possess 
so  vital  an  interest  for  youth  as  for  experienced 
age.  Youth  leaned  upon  the  wisdom  of  Brigham 
Young,  and  the  proved  Providence  which  drew 
them  safely  from  most  difficulties;  maturity 
grasped  the  dangers  and  difficulties  with  surer 
fear,  and  sought  to  find  answers  to  every  prob- 
lem. 

"Well,  one  thing  is  certain,  Aunt  Clara.    Pres- 


134       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ident  Young  has  kept  the  soldiers  out  of  the  Val- 
ley, and  the  winter  is  half  over." 

"True,  dear;  but  no  one  but  God  knows  what 
is  ahead  of  us  just  now.  One  thing  just  now, 
however,  is  to  get  this  yarn  all  spun,  reeled  and 
woven  into  good  coats  for  our  soldiers;"  and  Aunt 
Clara  slid  into  her  seat  before  the  huge  loom,  as 
if  to  shut  off  further  discussion. 

When  the  traveler  came  into  the  room  two 
hours  later,  he  found  the  wintry  sun  well  started 
on  his  morning  pilgrimage  and  his  hostess  placing 
his  modest  breakfast  on  the  table  in  the  sitting 
room;  he  noted  every  point  of  the  innate  refine- 
ment and  peace  which  filled  the  small  place  with 
more  than  hurnan  sweetness.  The  delicately  cro- 
cheted white  window-curtains,  the  cushioned  rush- 
bottomed  chairs,  all  of  them  garnished  neatly  with 
antimacassars,  tied  with  green  ribbons;  the  win- 
dows filled  with  geraniums  and  blooming  petu- 
nias ;  and  the  great  hand-loom  in  the  corner  of  the 
roomy  sitting-room  only  added  to  its  homelike 
air. 

He  walked  up  to  the  fire-place  and  as  he 
stretched  out  his  hands  to  the  blaze,  he  said  cor- 
dially : 

"Well,  Aunt  Clara,  have  you  found  me  out 
yet?" 

"Yes,   Colonel  Haines,   I   discovered  you  not 
more  than  three  hours  ago." 
"What  was  your  clue?" 


THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG  135 

"You  spoke  of  our  people  last  night  as  your 
friends ;  there  is  but  one  man  in  the  United  States 
who  thus  refers  to  this  hunted  people." 

"I  had  no  idea  that  I  could  remain  so  long  in- 
cognito to  those  keen  eyes  and  ears  of  yours,  Aunt 
Clara.  You  see  "I've  not  forgotten  the  quaint 
Yankee  term  by  which  all  of  your  friends  desig- 
nated you  in  Nauvoo?" 

"Have  you  had  your  interview  with  the  Presi- 
dent?" 

"Yes,  and  I  must  say  again,  what  I  have  said 
before:  if  the  government  of  this  country  knew 
Brigham  Young  as  I  know  him,  they  would  honor 
themselves  by  honoring  him  with  every  trust  and 
responsibility  they  could  bestow." 

"Ah,  Colonel,  how  few  men  ever  get  human 
perspective.  Only  a  true  man  himself  may  dis- 
cover truth  and  honor  in  another." 

"I  find  your  people  very  sore,  and  naturally  so ; 
but  President  Young  has  wisely  agreed  to  wel- 
come Governor  Gumming  into  the  Territory,  and 
I  think  he  will  permit  the  army  to  be  quartered 
somewhere,  not  too  near  your  settlements ;  I  can 
appreciate  his  dislike  to  bringing  the  turbulent 
elements  of  army  life  into  too  close  a  juxtaposi- 
tion with  your  innocent  and  sylvan  communities. 
Yet  the  great  government  of  which  we  are  all 
proud  factors  has  sent  an  army  here — right  or 
wrong — to  be  quartered  within  the  confines  of  this 
Territory;  and  I  was  sure  that  President  Young 


136       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

only  needed  the  assurance  that  Governor  Gum- 
ming comes  here  as  an  element  of  peace,  and  not 
as  a  casus  belli,  to  accept  wisely  and  quietly  the 
unfortunate  situation.  Captain  Van  Arden  has 
been  a  good  friend  to  your  people,  my  dear  lady. 
We  are  to  hold  another  council  meeting  this  morn- 
ing, and  then  I  shall  take  myself  from  under  your 
hospitable  roof  and  go  on  my  way." 

"Surely,  Colonel,  you  will  not  think  of  taking 
up  another  journey  in  this  terrible  winter  season, 
and  you  in  the  delicate  state  of  health  which  is 
evidenced  in  the  lines  of  pain  just  now  showing 
upon  your  face?" 

"Fear  not,  friend  Clara.  Your  president  prom- 
ised me  last  night  that  my  life  should  be  spared 
to  complete  this  and  other  good  works;  and  you 
know  that  I  look  upon  Brigham  Young  as  a 
prophet." 

Aunt  Clara  moved  quietly  about  the  room  for 
a  few  moments ;  then,  coming  up  to  the  table  once 
more,  she  said  reverently,  with  the  deep  tender- 
ness that  only  a  devout  woman  may  express  in 
voice  and  eyes: 

"Friend  Thomas,  I  feel  that  God  has  sent  you 
here  to  put  a  stop  to  this  terrible  misunderstand- 
ing and  tragedy." 

"Dear  old  friend,  you  are  just  repeating  the 
words  of  our  mutual  friend  and  President,  Brig- 
ham  Young,  last  night,  as  he  gave  me  his  good- 
night hand-clasp.  And  now  tell  me  who  is  that 


THE  FRIEND  OF  BRIGHAM  YOUNG    137 

exceedingly  pretty  girl  who  was  in  here  last 
night?" 

"That  is  the  daughter  of  my  dead  sister;  she 
lives  with  me  and  assists  me  as  my  own  daughter 
would  have  done,  if  she  had  lived." 

"She  is  certainly  good  to  look  upon.  May  I 
charge  you  to  look  well  after  her?  The  future  ad- 
vent of  many  strange  men  into  this  primitive  so- 
ciety of  yours  will  call  for  the  closest  watching 
and  the  most  loving  care  on  the  part  of  you  older 
ones." 

"Ellen  is  the  light  of  our  eyes ;  she  is  a  good  girl, 
Colonel  Haines;  very  loving  and  sincere;  she  is 
easy  to  lead  and  asks  only  for  love  in  return." 

"Ah,  Aunt  Clara,  it  is  the  paradox  of  human  na- 
ture that  man,  who  should  be  the  protector  of 
woman,  is  too  often  her  assailant;  and  that  the 
kindly  virtues  of  a  woman  which  make  her  the 
best  of  wives  and  mothers,  too  often  renders  her 
the  easiest  prey  to  a  wicked  man." 

"Have  you  noted  anything  wrong  with  my  El- 
len, sir?"  asked  Aunt  Clara,  in  mournful  surprise. 

"Not  so.  She  is  just  a  little  too  endowed  with 
natural  loveliness  for  her  complete  safety  in  this 
unhappy  world." 

Then,  saying  a  few  words  of  gratitude,  the  Col- 
onel, or  "Doctor  Osborne,"  arose  and  put  on  his 
heavy  army  cloak. 

"May  I  ask  you  one  question,  Colonel?" 

"A  dozen,  if  you  will." 


138       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Why  do  you  come  here  to  us  under  an  as- 
sumed name?" 

"Ah,  that  is  easy  to  answer;  for  you  yourself 
have  riddled  me  my  riddle.  I  had  received  such 
generous  and  courteous  treatment  in  your  old  un- 
happy city  of'Nauvoo,  and  had  made  so  many 
warm  friends  there,  that  I  wondered  if  it  could  be 
that  you  had  changed  into  the  creatures  that  your 
enemies  in  Washington  tried  to  convince  me  you 
were ;  so  I  chose  to  come  under  a  borrowed  name, 
and  thus  test  all  round  your  quality  of  hospitality. 
And  my  good  friend  Aunt  Clara  Tyler  has  proved 
for  me  all  that  I  sought  to  discover." 

The  interview  at  the  President's  office  that  day 
was  so  satisfactory  that  within  twenty-four  hours, 
John  Stevens  was  once  more  at  the  head  of  an  es- 
cort which  was  .to  convey  Colonel  Haines,  the 
mediator,  the  friend,  and  the  great  heart,  on  his 
mission  of  mercy  and  peace  into  the  lines  of  Fed- 
eral armies  quartered  at  Fort  Scott,  on  Black's 
Fork. 


XIII 
DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING 

HE  mission  of  Colonel  Haines  was  of  im- 
mediate effect.     The  fear  of  desperate 
warfare  was  over.     But  there  yet  re- 
mained much  for  the  people  of  Utah  to 
do  and  suffer. 

John  Stevens  was  constantly  in  the  saddle  dur- 
ing the  few  months  of  the  Spring  of  1858,  though 
this  did  not  prevent  him  from  keeping  a  pretty 
close  watch  on  Miss  Diantha  Winthrop.  He  was 
quite  familiar  with  the  tenor  of  her  recent  encour- 
agement to  Charlie  Rose.  He  was  also  aware  of 
the  quiet  yet  effective  snubs  she  had  administered 
to  that  resplendent  young  Englishman,  Henry 
Boyle.  In  a  way  known  only  to  himself,  John 
Stevens  contrived  to  be  aware  of  most  things  in 
which  he  himself  was  interested. 

It  was  early  in  the  evening  of  the  first  week  of 
April  that  he  rode  down  from  the  northern  camps 
into  the  valley ;  as  he  passed  the  first  farm-houses 
outside  the  city,  he  caught  sight  of  a  wagon-load 
of  young  people,  evidently  just  returning  from 
some  merry-making,  and  he  was  conscious  of  the 


140       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

glory  of  Dian's  hair  and  the  flash  of  her  bright 
eyes,  even  before  he  heard  the  silvery  peal  of 
laughter  with  which  she  was  adding  to  the  stings 
of  a  taunt  administered  to  some  luckless  wight  of 
the  party.  The  music  of  her  laughter  was  at  once 
the  charm  and  the  despair  of  all  Dian's  lovers. 
The  notes  of  that  peal  always  reminded  John  of  a 
chime  of  Swiss  silver  bells,  with  which  a  strolling 
musician  had  once  delighted  the  city.  They  rip- 
pled and  trilled  along  the  waves  of  ether  with 
enchanting  melody.  Her  friends  will  remember 
many  youthful  graces  of  this  well-known  Dian, 
but  none  which  were  more  charming  than  her 
ready,  irresistible,  musical  laughter.  It  was  never 
forced  nor  insincere,  but  was  always  the  expres- 
sion of  the  truth-loving  and  buoyant  soul  within. 
It  did  not  add  to  John's  own  merriment  to  see  the 
girl  enjoying  herself  so  heartily  while  under  the 
gallant  protection  of  Charlie  Rose;  as  his  horse 
lingered  some  distance  behind  the  wagon,  he  could 
pick  out  the  "crowd"  even  in  the  cool  dusk  of  the 
early  evening,  and  locate  all  the  incipient  flirta- 
tions. It  may  be  that  the  tired  man  felt  the  in- 
congruousness  of  laughter  when  his  own  heart 
was  hot  and  sore  because  of  the  events  just  now 
transpiring;  but  he  was  too  just  not  to  recognize 
the  further  fact  that  youth  is  a  time  for  joy  and 
forgetful  laughter;  and,  furthermore,  all  possible 
excitement  and  fear  had  been  wisely  suppressed 
by  Brigham  Young.  As  soon  as  he  reached  a  side 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    141 

street,  John  turned  away,  and  cantered  into  the 
city  to  deliver  his  messages. 

The  next  evening,  as  he  was  striding  down  the 
State  Road  he  met  the  "crowd"  face  to  face.  They 
were  returning  from  singing  practice. 

"Oh,  John,"  called  Ellen,  "do  tell  us  all  the 
news.  Here's  Tom  Allen  trying  to  make  us  be- 
lieve that  the  President  is  for  deserting  our  good 
homes  and  leading  us  into  the  wilderness.  It  isn't 
true,  is  it?" 

"Would  you  rather  stay  here  under  the  rule  of 
an  army,  or  follow  your  leaders  into  another  place 
of  safety  and  peace  ?"  asked  John,  gently  and  seri- 
ously. 

"John,"  said  Charlie  Rose,  now  sober  and  ear- 
nest, "I  am  trying  to  get  these  girls  to  understand 
that  they  are  about  to  have  a  chance  to  be  brave 
and  womanly.  It's  stiff  work  trying  to  make  a 
girl  see  that  there  is  anything  but  fun  ahead." 

"Some  girls,"  corrected  Diantha,  with  lofty 
emphasis. 

"Come  into  Aunt  Clara's  sitting-room  and  let 
me  get  a  word  with  her;  then,  maybe,  you  shall 
get  another,"  said  John,  quietly. 

Sobered  and  awed,  the  little  group  of  young 
people  filed,  almost  silently,  into  the  familiar  gath- 
ering place.  Dian  refused  to  sit  down ;  her  quick 
thought  had  followed  the  serious  mood  of  John 
Stevens  and  instantly  her  whole  attention  was 
fixed  on  one  idea ;  what  could  she  do  in  this  crisis 


142       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

— a  girl — and  yet  so  full  of  devotion  to  that  cause 
her  friends  were  defending? 

"Aunt  Clara,  you  can  tell  the  crowd  how  very 
serious  our  condition  is  at  present.  They  seem  to 
have  forgotten  Nauvoo,"  said  John,  possibly  glad 
to  sober  these  young  people.  Charlie  Rose,  whose 
face  was  quite  flushed  with  the  news  he  had  just 
heard  on  the  streets,  walked  over  to  the  loom  in 
the  corner  and  waited  impatiently  for  Aunt  Clara 
to  finish  tearing  off  her  last  thread. 

It  was  impossible  for  John  Stevens  to  be  un- 
conscious of  the  fact  that  Charlie  Rose  was  stand- 
ing very  near  to  Dian,  as  she  leaned  against  the 
loom,  so  near  that  almost  the  loose  flying  tendrils 
of  her  yellow  hair  were  against  his  shoulder.  But 
with  stern  grip  on  his  own  nerves,  he  sat  care- 
lessly on  the  bench  and  bent  his  head  slightly  as 
he  examined  the  pattern  of  his  braided  buckskin 
pantaloons. 

Aunt  Clara  felt  the  tense  atmosphere  surround- 
ing her,  and  she  waited  in  silence  for  John  to 
speak,  for  she  was  sure  he  had  something  serious 
to  tell  them.  That  he  had  something  to  say  was 
sufficient  for  others  to  remain  quiet. 

"Boys,  how  many  of  you  can  be  ready  to  start 
at  midnight  for  the  army  of  the  United  States 
camped  now  at  Fort  Scott?"  There  was  a  breath- 
less silence  for  an  instant,  and  then: 

"All  of  us,"  quietly  answered  Charlie  Rose. 

"We  shall  leave  the  Eagle  Gate,  then,  at  twelve 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    143 

o'clock,  boys ;  I  shall  expect  you  to  be  there.  Bring 
your  usual  outfit." 

"John,"  said  Aunt  Clara,  with  a  note  of  anxiety 
in  her  voice,  "what  is  it  now?" 

"We  are  to  meet  and  escort  Governor  Cumming 
into  the  Territory." 

"Governor  Cumming?  Is  Brigham  Young  no 
longer  Governor  of  Utah  then?"  asked  Charlie. 

"I  have  this  day  delivered  the  official  informa- 
tion that  the  President  of  the  United  States  has 
appointed  a  new  Governor  for  our  unhappy  Terri- 
tory. It  is  for  this  reason,  ostensibly,  that  the 
flower  of  the  American  army  has  come  out  into 
the  wilderness  of  the  West.  Thousands  of  trained 
soldiers  have  been  sent  to  install  one  man  in  a 
Territory  of  a  few  hundred  pioners."  John  spoke 
bitterly,  but  it  was  not  his  to  question.  He  was 
but  to  obey. 

"What  is  the  name  of  this  new  Governor?" 
asked  Dian  with  quick  sarcasm  in  her  tones. 

"His  name  is  Cumming,  and  so  far  as  I  am  able 
to  judge,  he  is  not  to  blame  for  this  blunder  of 
Buchanan's.  But,  boys,  meet  me  at  the  Eagle 
Gate  at  midnight." 

"Oh,  John,  will  the  soldiers  kill  us  all,  or  drive 
us  from  our  homes?"  asked  Ellen,  tearfully. 

"Only  God  can  answer  that,"  replied  John,  sol- 
emnly. 

The  heart  of  every  girl  was  thrilled  with  the 
sense  of  personal  and  communal  danger.  Yet, 


144       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

there  mingled  with  it  all  a  paradoxical  and  fem- 
inine joy  in  the  intrepid  character  of  the  men 
who  would  protect  them  and  their  homes  in  life 
or  in  death. 

Ellen  ran  up  to  Dian,  and  with  her  arms  around 
her  neck,  begged  her  friend  to  "stay  all  night." 
Ellen  felt  suddenly  a  sense  of  coming  disaster; 
her  very  heart  was  choking  in  her  throat,  and  she 
felt  that  she  must  have  many  people  near  her. 
Dian  was  glad  to  stay ;  although  her  own  thoughts 
were  not  busy  with  herself,  but  dwelt  upon  the 
larger  interests  of  the  starving  army  beyond  the 
mountains,  who  were  all  human  beings,  even  if 
enemies.  Her  soul  bowed  in  prayer  for  Brigham 
Young  and  the  other  leaders  of  her  people,  whose 
judgment  and  wisdom  must  be  supreme  in  this 
the  people's  most  trying  hour. 

The  days  that  followed  were  filled  with  vague 
rumors  of  coming  disaster.  Women  clung  to  their 
little  children;  men  gazed  upon  their  innocent 
daughters  and  wondered  what  the  future  held  in 
store  for  all.  They  had  seen  their  dear  ones 
mobbed,  driven  and  plundered,  time  and  again 
in  the  past;  what  would  this  new  disaster  bring 
forth? 

Fear  and  suspense — are  they  not  man's  most 
dreaded  foes?  Anything  which  comes  is  better 
than  the  undefinable  things  which  are  so  feared 
but  which  rarely  happen.  And  thus  the  days  and 
weeks  of  that  month  of  suspense  which  followed 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    145 

John  Stevens'  expedition  into  the  eastern  moun- 
tains were  far  more  unendurable  to  Diantha  and 
her  girl-friends  than  the  simple  events  which  fol- 
lowed. For,  after  all,  when  the  day  came  for  the 
entrance  of  Governor  Cumming  into  the  Terri- 
tory, the  sun  shone,  the  meadow-larks  piped  out 
their  usual  notes  of  musical  inquiry  into  the 
state  of  the  worm  and  bug  market,  the  crickets 
hopped  nimbly  out  of  the  way  of  the  oncoming 
posse  of  mountaineer  soldiers  who  acted  as  the 
gubernatorial  escort,  and  the  whole  party  drew 
up  to  the  Salt  Lake  House,  clattered  under  the 
broad  eaves  of  its  western  porches,  and  debouched 
quietly  within.  The  first  great  act  of  the  ex- 
pected sensation  was  over,  while  the  second  act 
was  quite  small  and  inadequate  to  the  tremendous 
overture  of  dread  which  had  been  pounding  at  the 
ears  of  the  small  inland  city  for  so  long.  Governor 
Cumming  proved  to  be  a  very  generous,  whole- 
souled  man,  and  in  the  historic  interview  which 
followed  between  the  new  and  the  old  Governors 
of  the  then  distracted  Territory  of  Utah,  both 
men  discovered  the  elements  of  candor,  truth  and 
sincerity  in  the  other,  and  the  bond  of  mutual  un- 
derstanding was  not  long  in  forming.  The  days 
of  adjustment  and  readjustment  which  followed 
were  not  days  of  unmixed  confusion  and  disturb- 
ance, for  time  was  taken  in  which  to  dispel  fears 
and  to  form  new  ties. 

Diantha  Winthrop  was  conscious,  in  those  un 
10 


146       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

certain  and  troublous  days,  of  a  certain  dissatis- 
faction regarding  the  outcome  of  the  dramatic  be- 
ginnings which  her  quick  intelligence  had  discov- 
ered in  this  appalling  incident.  Like  most  noble 
if  youthful  minds,  her  thoughts  had  been  busy 
with  the  high  purpose  and  exalted  ideals  of  the 
people.  Unlike  her  volatile  friend  Ellen,  Dian's 
gloomy  fears  at  this  period  settled  around  the 
leaders  of  Her  people ;  while  to  little  laughing  El- 
lie  the  one  important  feature  of  it  all  was  little 
Ellie's  own  connection  with  each  and  every  hap- 
pening. It  was  therefore  somewhat  of  a  disap- 
pointment to  both  girls  that  there  was  such  a  tame 
ending  to  so  tragic  a  beginning.  Governor  Gum- 
ming was  in  the  city,  he  had  been  properly  re- 
ceived by  Governor  Young,  and  the  whole  inci- 
dent was  closed,  apparently,  without  even  the 
hoisting  of  the  flag.  The  girls  mentioned  the  mat- 
ter to  Aunt  Clara,  and  that  good  lady  only  an- 
swered : 

"None  but  poets  and  prophets  know  the  differ- 
ence between  tragedy  and  comedy.  What  you 
feel  is  going  to  be  tragedy  turns  out  to  be  comedy, 
and  what  starts  as  comedy  too  often  turns  into 
tragedy." 

And  thus  life  poured  its  turbulent  stream  down 
into  the  channels  of  Utah's  history  and  the  even- 
ing and  the  morning  made  up  the  scintillating 
days  of  that  trying  season. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  Governor  Gumming  was  duly 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    147 

escorted  into  the  city,  and  he  and  his  gentle  lady- 
wife  were  suitably  quartered.  To  him  Brigham 
Young  turned  over  all  the  Territorial  records,  the 
great  seal  and  all  insignia  of  his  exalted  office; 
all  were  delivered  over  safely  and  formally  by 
the  maligned  "Mormon"  leader.  But  our  friend 
John,  with  his  companions  Charlie  Rose  and  Tom 
Allen,  was  kept  long  weeks  in  active  service  out 
in  Echo  Canyon.  The  city  seemed  very  lonely  to 
Ellen  and  Dian  during  those  long  spring  weeks. 

One  day  in  the  early  spring,  some  weeks  after 
Governor  Cumming's  entrance  into  the  Valley, 
Dian  sought  a  quiet  interview  with  Aunt  Clara, 
hoping  to  ascertain  something  definite  as  to  the 
real  nature  of  all  the  rumors  and  forebodings 
again  quivering  in  the  very  air  of  Great  Salt  Lake 
City. 

"Dear  Aunt  Clara,"  said  Dian,  when  they  were 
seated  and  busily  knitting— oh,  those  active,  fly- 
ing hands  of  women  which  never  rested,  scarce 
night  or  day,  during  those  trying  months — "I  am 
so  troubled ;  my  nights  are  full  of  unhappy  dreams 
and  my  days  are  so  restless  that  I  cannot  accom- 
plish anything  worth  while.  What  is  all  this 
about?  Please  confide  in  Ellie  and  me,  dear  Aunt 
Clara.  I  know  you  enjoy  the  confidence  of  the 
leading  brethren,  and  I  long  to  know  if  it  is  true 
that  the  soldiers  are  going  to  be  allowed  to  enter 
our  beloved  Territory?  And  is  Governor  Gum- 
ming really  our  friend?" 


148       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Governor  Gumming  is  a  very  liberal  and  hu- 
mane man,  my  dear.  But  it  is  apparently  true 
that  we  shall  have  to  bow  to  the  will  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  this  great  nation  which  we  all  love  so 
well,  and  allow  these  soldiers,  this  terrible  army, 
to  come  into  the  Territory  and  quarter  themselves 
here,  for  how  long  no  one  can  tell.  Ostensibly 
the  army  came  to  install  Governor  Gumming ;  but 
as  you  know,  Governor  Gumming  has  been 
peaceably  installed,  yet  General  Johnston  insists 
on  coming  into  the  Valley.  President  Young  has 
turned  over  the  records  and  great  seal  of  our  Ter- 
ritory which  our  wicked  enemies  swore  to  Pres- 
ident Buchanan  we  had  destroyed,  and  now  Gov- 
ernor Gumming  has  notified  Brother  Brigham 
that  a  Peace  Commission  may  be  sent  out  to  this 
Territory  to  hand  us  out  a  Proclamation  of  Am- 
nesty. And  there  is  the  full  story." 

"What's  a  Peace  Commission  and  what  is  am- 
nesty?" asked  Ellen. 

"Surely,  my  dear!  What  is  amnesty?  It  is  for- 
giveness. And  why  the  United  States  should  deem 
it  necessary  to  send  an  army  out  here  to  crush  us 
into  submission,  when  we  had  never  revolted, 
and  then  think  it  necessary  to  send  us  a  proclama- 
tion of  amnesty,  when  we  have  done  nothing 
to  be  forgiven  for,  is  more  than  a  poor  woman  can 
understand.  However,  the  plain  English  of  it  is 
that  someone  wanted  the  army  out  of  the  way  in 
Washington,  others  wanted  the  money  that  comes 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    1,49 

to  contractors,  and  still  others  don't  know  any- 
thing about  it,  except  someone  has  raised  another 
cry  of  'Down  with  the  Mormons.'  Gover- 
nor Gumming  hopes  to  clear  everything  up  with 
the  aid  of  this  Peace  Commission.  But,  girls,  I 
have  something  very  serious  to  confide  to  you; 
next  Monday  we  are  to  pack  up  everything  that 
can  be  loaded  into  wagons,  leaving  the  rest  piled 
up  with  kindlings  ready  to  burn,  and  then  we 
are  to  start  for  the  South." 

"For  the  South?  Where?"  asked  the  two  girls 
in  one  breath. 

"I  cannot  tell.  Some  have  already  gone  quietly 
ahead.  We  shall  pack  up  everything  that  we  can 
pile  in  our  wagons,  and  with  sufficient  provisions 
to  last  us  a  year,  we  shall  once  more  go  out  into 
the  wilderness.  This  time  we  shall  take  to  the 
mountains." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Clara,  surely  you  are  not  in  ear- 
nest?" 

"Girls,  this  is  no  time  for  any  of  us  to  be  in  jest. 
We  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  Do 
you  get  to  work  at  once.  And  then,  when  all  is 
ready,  we  shall  fill  this  house  with  sufficient  kind- 
ling to  burn  every  stick  and  log  within  twenty- 
four  hours  of  the  time  when  the  word  is  given." 

"Aunt  Clara !  Burn  this  house  which  you  love 
so  well?  With  this  dear  green  door?  It's  the  only 
green  door  in  the  city.  And  all  this  comfort  which 
you  have  worked  so  hard  to  secure?  Oh,  I  can't 


150       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

bear  the  thought.  And  the  lettuce  and  radishes 
which  you  sowed  on  the  snow  and  which  are  just 
now  ready  to  eat?  What  about  everybody  else?" 
asked  Ellen,  incoherently. 

But  no  amount  of  grief  on  the  part  of  the  girls 
could  change  the  condition  of  things,  and  after 
awhile  the  prudent  counsels  of  their  good  friend 
calmed  undue  excitement,  and  they  resigned 
themselves  to  the  common  fate,  willing  to  share  in 
the  general  affliction  as  they  had  shared  in  the 
common  good.  Here  was  tragedy,  surely !  When 
least  expected,  here  it  was !  Nightfall  found  them 
all  tired  out  with  the  day's  labor  and  excitement. 

Evening  brought  Charlie  Rose  to  the  door  of 
the  quiet  sitting-room,  and  even  if  they  were 
tired,  they  were  glad  to  see  his  welcome  face. 

"Oh,  Charlie,  will  we  all  have  to  go  South?" 
asked  Ellen,  unable  to  restrain  her  excitement. 

"Yes,  Ellie,  I  bring  word  to  Aunt  Clara  that  she 
and  you  must  be  ready  to  start  tomorrow  morn- 
ing for  the  South.  Dian,  your  folks  are  to  go  to- 
morrow also.  We  didn't  expect  to  go  for  another 
week,  but  the  government  is  going  to  send  some 
peace  commissioners  out  to  the  Territory,  and 
they  may  be  as  dangerous  to  our  welfare  as  the 
peacemakers  at  Carthage.  So  we  shall  get  away 
tomorrow,  as  many  as  can,  and  as  fast  as  we  can. 
'Boil  and  bubble ;  toil  and  trouble,'  "  quoted  Char- 
lie, mournfully. 

"Aunt  Clara,  if  that  is  the  case,  I  must  hurry 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    151 

home  and  help  Rachel ;  she  may  need  me ;  and  you 
and  Ellen  can  get  along  without  me,"  said  Di- 
antha. 

"Oh,  I  shall  be  frightened,  Dian.  Just  Aunt 
Clara  and  me  here  all  this  dreadful  night,"  cried 
out  Ellen. 

"Hush,  child!  Why  should  we  be  frightened? 
No  one  wants  anything  of  us.  Go  right  on,  Dian ; 
you  are  needed  at  home.  No  doubt  my  sister 
will  be  here  before  long,"  expostulated  Aunt 
Clara. 

Ellen  was  fain  to  be  comforted;  her  heart 
yearned  for  the  presence  of  her  dear  friend  Dian 
in  this  hour  of  common  peril  and  distress.  Yet 
she  had  Aunt  Clara,  and  she  must  be  content. 

As  Dian  left  the  door,  Charlie  stood  beside  her 
and  she  whispered : 

"Go  back,  Charlie,  and  stay  with  Aunt  Clara 
awhile.  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid  to  run  over  home 
alone." 

"Dian,  let  me  come  with  you.  I  will  come  back 
to  Aunt  Clara ;  but  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  or  any 
of  our  girls  out  alone  on  the  streets." 

"Why,  we  always  go  out  on  the  streets  alone, 
when  we  have  any  occasion  to ;  why  should  we  be 
afraid  now?" 

But  the  young  man  was  walking  by  her  side 
even  as  she  protested.  As  they  reached  Dian's 
gate  he  put  a  detaining  hand  upon  her  arm  and 
said,  earnestly : 


152       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"I  have  to  go  back  to  camp  in  Echo  Canyon  to- 
morrow; Dian,  will  you  miss  me?" 

The  dim  darkened  new  moon  was  shining  down 
upon  the  young  people  with  the  tender  radiance 
of  spring  folly;  they  were  young;  Dian's  heart 
was  very  sore  with  the  quivering  emotions 
wrought  up  in  the  last  twenty-four  hours.  She 
liked  Charlie  Rose,  for  he  was  as  wholesome  and 
pure  as  he  was  honest,  and  he  was  always  bright 
and  gay.  The  night  was  very  lonely. 

"Of  course,  we  shall  miss  you,  Charlie.  All  the 
boys,  even  to  Tom  Allen,  are  out  in  the  canyons. 
It  is  very  lonely." 

"You  have  Henry  Boyle  left,"  said  her  com- 
panion, somewhat  maliciously. 

"Pooh!"  contemptuously.  "He  is  almost  ready 
to  apostatize ;  he  is  scared  to  death  over  this  army 
business.  He  has  asked  Governor  Gumming  to 
let  him  go  out  of  the  Territory  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  soldiers." 

"Can  that  be  true,  Dian?  I  would  not  have 
thought  him  a  traitor  as  well  as  a  coward." 

"Are  not  all  cowards  traitors?" 

"Hardly,  Dian.  That's  too  sweeping.  But  I 
am  surprised  about  Henry.  He  cut  quite  a  shine 
here  for  months." 

The  girl  began  to  open  her  gate ;  she  knew  that 
her  brother  did  not  approve  of  young  people 
standing  at  the  gate  in  the  late  evenings. 

"Dian,  listen  just  one  moment ;  here,  wear  this 


DIANTHA  WEARS  CHARLIE'S  RING    153 

ring  for  me  while  I  am  gone;  won't  you?"  As  he 
spoke  he  drew  a  pretty  ring  from  his  finger,  evi- 
dently an  heirloom  in  his  family.  Rings  were  rare 
in  those  days,  and  Dian's  eyes  sparkled.  She 
knew  that  she  was  not  in  love  with  Charlie;  but 
neither  was  she  with  anyone  else.  Why  should 
she  not  wear  a  ring? 

"I  will  wear  it  awhile,  Charlie,  but  I  won't  keep 
it.  You  must  give  it  to  the  girl  you  are  going 
to  marry." 

"That's  what  I'm  doing,  Dian." 

The  tone  of  his  voice  startled  her  with  its  in- 
tensity ;  she  drew  away  from  him,  half  frightened. 

"Here,  Charlie,  take  your  ring;  I  do  not  want  to 
wear  it." 

But  with  instant  comprehension  of  his  rash- 
ness, the  young  man  said  with  a  light  laugh : 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Dian !  Oblige  me  by  wearing  my 
ring  until  I  find  the  girl  I  am  to  marry.  Then  I 
will  come  to  you  for  it." 

Pacified,  the  girl  pushed  the  ring  back  on  her 
finger,  and  then  at  once  turned  into  the  gate, 
saying  as  she  did  so : 

"I  shall  not  forget  you  nor  any  of  the  boys  in 
my  prayers,  Charlie.  Goodnight  and  goodby." 

And  the  young  man  was  fain  to  be  content  with 
this  general  parting  wish. 


XIV 
"TO  YOUR  TENTS,  O  ISRAEL." 


T 


O  your  tents,  O  Israel !" 

What  a  picture  of  quiet  despair  melt- 
ing into  calm  resignation  those  spring 
months  presented!     In  April  there  had 
begun  that  wondrous    move    into    the   unknown 
which  had  been  the  inspiration  and  yet  the  dread 
of  President  Brigham  Young.  Only  a  patriot  such 
as  he  could  appreciate  the  love  of  home  and  coun- 
try which  had  forced  this  people  ten  years  before 
into  a  trackless  wilderness;  no  one  but  a  patriot 
could  guess  what  these  new  sacrifices  must  mean 
to  the  hunted  and  driven  people.     Ten  years  of 
peace !  Ten  years  of  hardest  labor  ever  performed 
by  any  people,  at  any  period ;  and  now  to  start  out 
into  the  wilderness  again !  Who  could  tell  the  suf- 
fering, the  anguish  of  a  people  whose  hearthstones 
were  their  altars,  and  whose  religion  was  a  home ! 
As  the  wagon  driven  by  Aunt  Clara's  own  del- 
icate hands  turned  into  the  State  Road  on  the 
morning  of  the  12th  of  May,  1858,  she  saw  a  long, 
straggling  trail  of  wagons  ahead  of  her ;  old  and 
weather-worn  most  of  them  were,  having  crossed 
the  plains  many  times  in  the  last  twelve  years. 
There  were  crowds  of  little  children  packed  in 


"TO  YOUR  TENTS,  O  ISRAEL"      155 

many  of  the  wagons,  and  in  some  there  groaned 
and  writhed  the  sick  and  helpless.    But  all  faces 
wore   the   expression  of    exalted    determination 
borne  only  by  a  people  whose  devotion  could  help 
them  to  bid  adieu  to  comfort  and  ease  when  duty 
or  inspiration  gave  the  ringing  cry: 
"To  your  tents,  O  Israel!" 
Ah,  how  often  in  their  broken  and  turbulent 
history  as  a  people  had  that  clarion  cry  sounded 
in  their  ears ! 

And  now,  once  again,  Israel  was  on  the  march ! 
The  usual  chatter  of  women,  the  laugh  of  chil- 
dren, the  merry  exchange  of  field  and  farm  gossip 
from  the  men,  these  common  features  of  their 
communal  life  were  almost  hushed  in  the  com- 
mon sorrow  which  gripped  the  vitals  of  every 
wanderer  in  that  straggling  train  which  was  con- 
veying twenty  thousand  souls  from  Great  Salt 
Lake  City  alone,  and  thousands  more  from  the 
northern  towns,  to  the  mountains!  From  the 
Eagle  Gate  clear  to  the  "Point  of  the  Mountain" 
— that  longest  straight  street  in  all  the  world — 
the  whole  length  of  that  twenty  miles  of  road, 
straight  as  engineering  skill  could  plant — was  one 
moving  mass  of  wagons,  with  and  without  covers ; 
some  with  quilts  over  the  wagon  boxes,  and  some 
without  boxes  or  covers ;  driven  by  men,  by  wom- 
en, and  by  little  boys.  Great  oxen  on  some  of 
them  lumbered  heavily  along ;  horses,  mules,  and 
even  patient  cows  were  harnessed  in  the  proces- 


156       JOHN  STEVENS*  COURTSHIP 

sion.  The  dust  was  blinding ;  the  day  began  to  be 
hot.  Out  in  the  western  horizon  shone  the  sil- 
vered edge  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  glistening,  dia- 
mond-bright, under  the  ardent  sun. 

At  Dr.  Dunyon's  place  at  the  Point  of  the 
Mountain  the  wagons  of  the  Winthrop  family* 
drew  alongside  the  slower  mule  team  driven  by 
Aunt  Clara's  slender  but  capable  hands;  and  the 
voice  of  Ellen  Tyler  called  out  from  under  the 
dusty  wagon  cover: 

"Rachel,  where's  Dian?  ,  I  have  been  looking 
for  her  all  the  morning." 

"She  is  just  behind  in  the  last  wagon.  She 
thought  she  could  help  grandmother  if  she  stayed 
in  that  wagon.  You  get  out  and  ride  with  her; 
there's  plenty  of  room  in  there ;"  and  Rachel  halted 
to  chat  awhile  with  Aunt  Clara. 

Ellen  quickly  accepted  this  welcome  invitation, 
and  hurried  back  to  her  friend. 

She  found  Diantha  sitting  uncomfortably  on  a 
high  box,  leaving  the  spring  seat  to  be  occupied  by 
the  old  lady  who  was  showing  signs  of  great  wear- 
iness. 

"Oh,  Ellie,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come.  Help 
me  to  unroll  this  bedding  and  get  a  place  fixed  for 
grandma  to  lie  down.  I  was  sure  she  could  not 
ride  on  the  spring  seat,  but  she  wanted  to  try  it 
to  save  trouble." 

The  girls  quickly  unfastened  the  huge  roll  of 
bedding,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  lad  who  was  driv- 


"TO  YOUR  TENTS,  O  ISRAEL"      157 

ing  the  team,  they  made  a  fairly  comfortable  bed 
on  the  boxes  inside  the  wagon. 

"Now,  grandma,  you  try  to  sleep  a  little;  you 
have  not  slept  a  wink  all  night." 

"Who  could  sleep,  dearie?"  answered  the  plain- 
tive voice  of  the  old  lady. 

The  girls  covered  her  feet  with  her  shawl,  and 
then  both  of  them  crowded  into  the  spring  seat 
with  the  driver. 

"Say,  Dian,  whose  ring  are  you  wearing?  It 
looks  like  Charlie's,"  said  the  quick  voice  of  Ellen. 

"Whose  ring  but  my  own,  silly?  Should  I  be 
wearing  other  people's  rings?" 

Ellen  was  abashed  with  the  little  rebuff.  She 
was  too  proud  to  ask  for  confidence  not  willingly 
shared,  yet  she  was  sure  the  ring  belonged  to  her 
friend  Charlie;  she  hastily  turned  the  talk  into 
safe,  impersonal  channels. 

"Don't  you  wonder  where  we  are  going,  Dian?" 

"My  brother  Appleton  says  we  are  to  stop  in 
Provo  for  awhile,  until  we  know  what  the  army 
is  going  to  do." 

"And  where  do  you  think  we  will  go  after  that?" 

"No  one  seems  to  know.  I  guess  President 
Young  knows;  he  knows  everything.  But  he  is 
too  wise  to  tell  anybody  what  he  thinks,  till  the 
time  comes  for  action." 

"I  have  heard  Aunt  Clara  speak  as  if  we  were 
bound  for  a  place  in  Mexico,  called  Sonora." 

"Well,  I  am  sure  I  don't  care  where  we  go.    We 


158       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

have  had  to  pick  up  and  leave  our  beloved  homes 
again,  driven  by  those  who  hate  us  for  our  re- 
ligion. Aunt  Clara  says  that  not  all  of  these  men 
in  Washington  are  so  cruel;  Col.  Haines  told  her 
that  Captain  Van  Arden  was  our  true  friend.  And 
there  are  doubtless  others." 

"Did  he  say  that  of  Captain  Van  Arden?"  asked 
Ellie,  her  eyes  aflame  with  some  pleasant  recollec- 
tion of  the  gallant  captain's  visit. 

"Indeed  he  did.  And  he,  together  with  Colonel 
Haines  has  persuaded  President  Buchanan  to  send 
some  peace  commissioners  out  here  to  try  and  fix 
up  this  awful  blunder  made  by  Buchanan  himself. 
I  wonder  how  it  is  that  men  are  so  easily  preju- 
diced against  our  people?" 

Ellen  was  not  given  to  general  reflections;  to 
her,  life  was  an  extremely  personal  affair.  So  she 
began  a  running  chatter  about  the  news  they  had 
received  of  John  Stevens. 

"Did  you  know  that  John  is  now  one  of  the  chief 
officers  in  the  Utah  militia?" 

Dian  turned  the  ring  round  and  round  on  her 
finger  and  said  nothing  in  reply  to  Ellen's  chatter. 
She  was  not  a  bit  interested  in  John  Stevens,  nor 
was  she  prepared  to  open  her  own  thoughts  for 
the  keen  eyes  of  her  loving  friend.  There  are 
some  things  that  are  too  hazy  in  a  girl's  mind  for 
analysis;  and  Dian  was  content  to  listen  while 
she  idly  dreamed  of  Charlie  Rose  and  what  he 
would  do  about  the  ring,  when  he  really  fell  in 


"TO  YOUR  TENTS,  O  ISRAEL"      159 

love  with  a  girl.  And  what  would  John  Stevens 
think  about  her  wearing  Charlie's  ring?  But  the 
hours  dragged  along,  night  came,  and  the  weary 
travelers  camped  wherever  water  and  wood  could 
be  found.  Next  morning's  sun  found  most  of  the 
mighty  host  once  more  on  the  dusty  highway, 
faces  to  the  South,  and  with  uplifted  hearts  to  a 
Providence  that  had  never  forgotten  Zion. 

"To  your  tents,  O  Israel !" 

Israel  was  on  the  march!  The  high  road  of 
Destiny  might  be  dusty  with  blinding  prejudice, 
and  hot  with  men's  hate  and  scorn.  But  Israel 
was  just  a  band  of  loyal  men  and  women  who 
trusted  God  and  feared  no  man.  And  so  they  went 
forth,  this  modern  Israel,  singing  hymns  while 
the  issues  of  life  and  death  wove  themselves  into 
intricate  patterns  on  the  web  and  woof  of  the 
mysterious  future ! 

The  evening  shades  of  the  second  day  found  our 
friends  halted  on  the  Provo  river  bottoms,  a  part 
of  that  temporary  encampment  which  made  the 
small  city  a  veritable  summer  pioneer  metropo- 
lis. 

The  long,  tiresome  journey  was  at  last  complet- 
ed, and  the  Winthrops  and  Tylers  could  find  no 
better  place  in  all  Provo  than  a  low  adobe  hut, 
which  was  then  used  as  a  bear  den  by  the  family 
who  had  built  themselves  a  new  house  further  up 
the  street.  Mr.  Bruin  was  taken  summarily  out  of 
his  quarters,  the  boys  and  children  spent  several 


160       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

hours  cleaning  out  the  hut,  while  the  women 
cooked  their  frugal  supper  over  the  campfire,  and 
then  all  retired  at  a  late  hour,  weary  with  the  long 
two  days'  travel. 


XV 
I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL. 

EANWHILE,  the  men  on  the  frontier  in 
Weber  Canyon  were  uneasy  and  as  full 
of  vague  forebodings  of  the  future  as 
were  the  women  and  children  left  in  the 
safer  shelter  of  the  lower  valleys.  To  be  sure, 
the  army  had  been  kept  out  of  the  Valley  for  the 
whole  winter;  and  spring  had  come,  and  they 
were  still  outside  the  confines  of  the  Territory. 

On  the  morning  of  May  28th,  Colonel  Lot  Smith 
was  ordered  to  the  headquarters  of  the  Utah 
militia.  He  was  closeted  with  the  General  for  an 
hour.  When  he  emerged,  he  went  at  once  to  the 
tent  of  John  Stevens. 

"Captain  Stevens,  get  Corporal  Rose  and  a 
squad  of  six  men  and  meet  me  outside  of  the 
lines  in  half  an  hour ;  you  have  an  important  duty 
ahead." 

The  order  was  instantly  obeyed,  and  soon  the 
little  squad  was  riding  out  towards  Camp  Scott. 

Arrived  there,  after  hours  of  hard  riding,  they 
showed  their  passports  to  the  pickets,  and  were 
at  last  allowed  to  enter  the  lines.  As  the  little 
squad  rode  rapidly  up  towards  the  camp  of  the 
army,  in  the  near  distance,  the  mountaineers 
noted  with  interest  the  picture  of  tented  life,  now 

11 


162       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

grown  so  familiar  to  Stevens,  but  so  novel  to  the 
eyes  of  the  other  young  Utahns.  The  white  Sib- 
ley  tents,  now  brown  and  rusty  with  the  winter's 
use,  were  planted  about  the  log  and  wooden 
structures  in  regular  form  in  the  center  of  the  en- 
campment, while  blue-coated  soldiers  could  be 
seen  through  the  outer  motley  fringe  of  the  camp's 
usual  followers,  pacing  in  sentry  duty,  or  moving 
to  and  fro  on  other  duty.  The  great  white  city 
rested  on  the  brown  and  pale  green  landscape  of 
the  foothills  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  like  pin- 
ioned birdwings,  brooding  over  the  nest  of  mighty 
enterprises. 

John  turned  to  his  companions  and  said: 
"Corporal  Rose,  I  shall  leave  you  and  the  men 
here  to  rest  quietly  until  my  return.     Remain  in 
your  saddles  and  prepare  for  quick  action." 

"Do  you  anticipate  any  trouble,  Captain  Stev- 
ens?" 

"Soldiers  do  not  anticipate.  They  prepare.  I 
may  not  go  armed  into  the  presence  of  civil  and 
military  authorities  on  a  message  of  peace.  Hold 
my  weapons  and  my  horse  until  my  return." 

Handing  his  musket  to  his  companion,  and 
striding  steadily  forward,  Captain  Stevens  was 
soon  within  the  outskirts  of  the  great  camp  at  Fort 
Scott.  In  the  rough  camp  life  of  the  hordes  of 
camp  followers  were  mingled  shouts  of  drunken 
laughter,  oaths  of  anger,  and  the  shrill  cries  of  rib- 
ald women.  He  entered  the  narrow  streets  of 


I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL    163 

rude  houses  in  the  edge  of  the  camp,  which  con- 
sisted of  half  shacks,  half  wigwams,  and  all  of 
them  altogether  abandoned  in  their  reckless  at- 
mosphere of  rude  frontier  conviviality.  The  look 
on  the  face  of  the  mountaineer  as  he  walked  ha- 
stily through  this  outer  fringe  of  corruption  to 
reach  the  inner  city  of  white  orderliness  was  grim 
and  foreboding. 

Passing  one  of  the  larger  tents  in  the  motley 
village,  a  drunken  man  suddenly  emerged  there- 
from with  his  pistol  swinging  in  his  reckless 
grasp. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  demanded  of  John,  reeling 
up  and  cocking  the  pistol  directly  in  the  face  of 
the  mountaineer.  The  drunken  eyes  of  the  soldier 
noted  the  rude  garb  of  the  stranger  and  with 
drunken  quickness  of  malicious  wit,  he  shouted 
noisily : 

"Are  you  a  damned  Mormon?" 

With  a  terrible  look  in  the  flashing  eyes  which 
passed  along  the  gun  barrel  and  pierced  the 
very  marrow  of  his  assailant,  John  Stevens  an- 
swered, through  his  clenched  teeth: 

"Yes  siree!  I  am  a  'Mormon!'  Dyed  in  the 
wool!" 

With  a  shaking  hand  the  pistol  was  lowered, 
and  the  soldier  said  unsteadily: 

"Well,  you're  a  damned  good  feller." 

John  Stevens  turned  away  in  disgust  and  yef- 
with  a  quick  gratitude  for  the  speedy  deliverance. 


164       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

And  now  he  reached  the  entrance  to  the  real 
Camp  Scott. 

He  showed  his  passports  to  the  sentry,  and 
passed  quickly  into  the  tented  enclosure,  where 
he  was  soon  ushered  into  the  presence  of  Govern- 
or Gumming  and  a  group  of  officers,  among  whom 
were  the  Peace  Commissioners,  no  doubt,  whom 
John  Stevens  had  come  to  seek. 

Governor  Cumming's  countenance  lighted  as 
he  met  the  flashing  gaze  of  John  Stevens. 

"So,  Captain  Stevens,  you  are  to  be  my  escort 
into  Great  Salt  Lake  City  this  second  time  also?" 

"If  that  is  my  duty,  I  shall  perform  it  even 
more  cheerfully  than  I  did  before,  Governor  Gum- 
ming." 

"Spoken  like  a  soldier.  But,  friend  Stevens,  I 
want  you  to  enlighten  these  gentlemen.  Excuse 
me,  gentlemen,  I  desire  Captain  Stevens,  who  has 
so  recently  come  from  the  Valley,  to  tell  you  offi- 
cers how  cordial  and  friendly  his  President  is." 

Stevens'  smile  was  very  grim  as  he  answered: 

"President  Brigham  Young  is  always  cordial  to 
his  friends." 

"And  always  generous,  even  to  his  enemies, 
hey,  Stevens?" 

"He  is  just  to  every  one." 

The  Governor  hastened  to  cover  the  slight  con- 
fusion he  felt  at  his  failure  to  draw  happy  assur- 
ances of  peace  from  the  mountaineer.  At  that 
moment  a  slim,  dark,  handsome  young  officer, 


I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL    165 

whom  Stevens  recognized  with  a  flash  of  his  keen 
eye  and  quick  memory,  stepped  jauntily  out  of  the 
group  beside  the  Governor  and  said  lightly : 

"My  good  man,  why  does  your  rebel  leader  court 
death  and  extinction  in  this  defiant  fashion?" 

John  strode  towards  the  insulting  speaker,  and 
at  that  moment  the  Governor  of  the  new  Territory 
realized  that  he  had  more  than  a  war  of  two  bel- 
ligerent forces ;  he  had  a  religious  as  well  as  a  so- 
ciological problem  on  his  hands.  He  felt  his  own 
powerlessness,  even  to  prevent  sudden  conflict 
between  these  two  rash  youths. 

Suddenly  an  orderly  entered  and  after  saluting 
he  announced : 

"Governor  Powell  and  Major  McCulloch." 

The  entrance  of  these  two  men  made  a  diver- 
sion. But  neither  the  soldier  nor  the  mountaineer 
forgot  his  personal  grievance. 

"Major  McCulloch,  here  is  the  leader  of  the  es- 
cort which  Governor  Young  has  sent  to  convey 
the  Peace  Commissioners  into  the  Valley.  I  trust 
you  will  be  mutually  benefited  by  your  acquaint- 
ance. Stevens  is  a  fearless  soldier  and  a  just  man. 
Captain  Stevens,  Major  McCulloch  and  Governor 
Powell  of  Kentucky  are  the  two  Peace  Commis- 
sioners sent  out  here  by  our  gracious  executive, 
President  Buchanan." 

"Captain  Stevens,  were  you  one  of  that  gallant 
band  of  boys  who  went  to  San  Bernardino  in  the 
'Mormon'  Battalion?"  asked  Major  McCulloch. 


166        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

John  signified  that  he  was,  and  the  bluff  old  sol- 
dier grasped  his  hand  and  shook  it  heartily. 

"Well,  sir,  I  may  think  your  leaders  a  damned 
set  of  hypocrites,  but  you  men,  and  the  women 
too,  as  to  that,  sir,  who  undertook  that  most  dam- 
nable and  difficult  march  in  the  way  you  did,  and 
carried  it  through  so  gloriously,  sir,  you  have  all 
my  hearty  admiration.  I  am  glad  to  see  you, 
sir." 

John  responded  to  this  genuine  outburst  with 
mingled  feelings;  he  could  but  acknowledge  the 
genuineness  of  the  man,  but  the  strictures  upon 
the  leaders  of  his  people  stung  John  almost  to  the 
quick  reply.  Again  Governor  Cumming  was  to 
the  rescue. 

"Gentlemen,  we  have  no  time  for  reminiscence. 
We  must  to  business !  There  is  no  time  to  lose." 

"Damn  me,  sir,  I  am  not  wasting  time  when  I 
tell  a  man  he  is  one  of  a  body  of  heroes.  Damn 
it,  man,  do  you  know  anything  about  that  tre- 
mendous march  of  half-clad,  half-starved  troops 
through  a  howling  barren  waste,  over  deserts  and 
mountains,  burying  their  dead,  and  nursing  their 
sick,  without  one  day's  rest  or  pause?  Damn  it, 
man,  you  seem  to  be  pretty  ignorant  of  the  great- 
est march  undertaken  by  American  or  other  sol- 
diers. Do  you  know,  sir,  that  that  company  of 
rough,  untrained  soldiers  planted  the  first  Amer- 
ican flag  on  the  soil  of  Lower  California?  Stev- 
ens, I  am  proud  to  take  your  hand.  I  saw  your 


I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL    167 

name  on  the  muster  roll  and  am  glad  to  meet 
you." 

Governor  Gumming  was  nervously  aware  of 
the  stare  of  contempt  indulged  in  by  more  than 
one  of  the  officers  in  the  tent  at  this  outburst  of 
the  peppery  but  generous  major ;  but  he  was  fain 
to  wait  till  the  soldier's  tongue  was  tired,  and 
then  he  hastily  proceeded  to  outline  the  plan  of 
action.  > 

As  the  council  proceeded,  John  Stevens  per- 
ceived that,  inadvertently  perhaps,  the  Governor 
held  out  as  a  sort  of  peace-sop  the  picture  of  the 
comfortable  homes  down  in  the  Valley  below: 
the  smiling  farms,  the  young  orchards  and  the 
fruitful  gardens;  these  he  hinted  to  the  assem- 
bled officers  would  make  life  very  endurable  to 
all  who  might  find  shelter  beneath  the  snowy 
peaks  of  the  mountains  towering  above  the  lakes 
and  valleys  of  that  inhabited  desert. 

John  was  forced  to  listen  in  silence  to  the  seem- 
ing bait  which  was  held  out  to  the' weary  soldiers 
who  had  wintered  almost  where  Gen.  Harney  said 
they  would— in  "hell"— and  "hell"  it  had  been  to 
those  restless  men  in  the  frozen  passes  of  the  des- 
ert mountains. 

"How  can  all  this  be  true,  Governor?"  asked 
ex-Governor  and  Senator-elect  Powell,  the  other 
member  of  the  Peace  Commission,  "when  it  is 
hardly  ten  years  since  these  people  came  into 
these  barren  wastes  ?" 


168       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"My  dear  sir,  these  'Mormons'  have  done  more 
marvelous  things  than  ever  did  Moses.  And  they 
have  even  put  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  to  the  blush 
with  their  gigantic  toil  and  its  marvelous  results. 
They  call  it  the  special  providence  of  God;  hey, 
Stevens?"  to  the  young  man  whom  he  was  anx- 
ious to  placate  and  who  was  listening  savagely  to 
this  somewhat  indiscreet  parley;  "but  the  blos- 
soming desert  below  may  be  called,  in  all  reason, 
the  result  of  energy  and  grit.  Yankee  grit !  Why, 
sir,  you  will  find  that  those  people  down  there  are 
mostly  of  pure  New  England  descent.  A  very  few 
English,  and  fewer  Europeans.  Yankees  they  are, 
most  of  them.  And  a  very  courageous  lot  of 
Yankees  they  all  are.  They  are  the  peers  of  any 
in  the  matter  of  sobriety,  courage  and  industry." 

John  could  but  feel  that  Governor  Cumming 
was  trying  to  be  fair  in  his  explanation,  and  that 
helped  him  the  better  to  bear  the  insolent  airs  of 
some  of  the  blue-coated  officers,  who  gazed  at  him 
loftily.  His  manhood  could  hadly  be  insulted  by 
such  personalities. 

As  he  waited  without,  after  the  conference  had 
been  broken  up,  and  the  Governor  and  Commis- 
sioners had  withdrawn,  he  noted  one  of  the 
officers,  whom  he  had  heard  called  Col.  Saxey, 
trying  to  still  the  wild  boasts  of  some  of  the 
younger  men,  who  could  not  quite  rid  themselves 
of  the  prospective  triumph  over  the  "damned 
Mormons." 


I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL    169 

"This  whole  business,"  asserted  Saxey,  "is  noth- 
ing but  a  scheme  on  the  part  of  King  Buchanan 
to  get  the  flower  of  the  Union  troops  out  here 
just  to  further  his  own  wily  political  ends.  He  is 
the  king  of  blunderers,  say  I !" 

John  moved  hastily  away ;  he  was  aware  of  the 
few  wise  heads  in  that  vast  army  of  ten  thousand, 
but  he  also  knew  that  time  and  time  again,  the 
demons  of  mobocracy  had  broken  over  all  civil  and 
military  control  and  had  plundered  and  driven  his 
poor  and  unhappy  people.  And  now,  behold,  he 
was  to  escort  the  Peace  Commissioners  into  the 
Valley!  Well,  he  would  do  his  full  duty. 

"I  have  sent  a  message  to  General  Albert  Sid- 
ney Johnston,"  said  the  Governor,  after  they  rode 
out  of  camp  under  the  protection  of  the  "Mor- 
mon" squad,  "charging  him  to  remain  here  quietly 
until  you  gentlemen  of  the  Peace  Commission 
have  done  your  work,  and  until  it  is  quite  safe 
and  proper  to  debouch  our  army  into  the  valleys 
below." 

"And  do  you  expect  General  Johnston  to  obey 
your  orders?"  asked  Major  McCulloch.  "If  he  re- 
mains in  camp  one  day  after  we  leave  it,  it  will  be 
because  he  wishes  to  do  so,  not  because  you  com- 
mand it." 

"What  do  you  mean  Major.  Am  I  not  the 
head  of  the  government  in  this  Territory?  Who 
shall  command,  if  not  the  representative  of  the 
United  States  government?"  and  the  gentleman 


170       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

proudly  swept  his  glance  over  the  generous  form 
of  his  companion. 

"My  dear  fellow,  that  is  a  question  that  lies 
too  deep  for  a  soldier  to  answer.  Which  shall  rule 
in  this  Territory?  The  civil  or  the  military?  Can 
you  unriddle  me  the  riddle,  Governor  Powell?" 

That  gentleman  merely  raised  his  eyebrows,  as 
fie  sought  to  keep  a  steady  seat  on  his  fiercely 
trotting  cayuse  pony  and  said: 

"Quien  sabe?" 

"There  must  be  no  mistake,"  said  Governor 
Cumming,  anxiously;  "if  there  is  any  measure  of 
peace  to  come  into  this  unhappy  Territory — and 
you  gentlemen  have  been  commissioned  for  that 
purpose  and  no  other — I  must  be  allowed  full  con- 
trol as  the  civil  head  of  this  part  of  our  Nation. 
There  has  been  no  rebellion,  gentlemen;  I  beg 
you  to  remember  that ;"  and  John,  who  had  heard 
all,  loved  the  kindly,  determined  gentleman  who 
maintained  that  fact  in  the  face  of  all  opponents. 
"You  may  patch  up  a  peace  as  best  you  may.  But 
it  will  never,  can  never,  be  done  at  the  point  of  the 
sword." 

"Quien  sabe?"  again  asked  the  political  Pow- 
ell, who  was  open  to  conviction  on  either  side. 

And  so  the  cavalcade  rode  swiftly  on  its  way. 
They  reached  the  entrance  to  the  canyon  at  dusk ; 
after  a  brief  rest  Capt.  Stevens  insisted  that  they 
should  continue  on  their  line  of  travel,  because  of 
the  possible  danger  of  attack  from  Indians  or 


I'M  A  MORMON  DYED  IN  THE  WOOL    171 

other  stragglers  in  the  mountains.  And  so  it  was 
that  the  party  traversed  the  whole  of  the  canyon 
fortifications  under  cover  of  darkness.  And  what- 
ever John's  motive  in  so  doing  might  be,  it  was 
not  communicated  to  the  others.  But  when  they 
passed  peak  after  peak,  all  brilliantly  illuminated 
by  camp  fires,  around  which  men  stood  silent  and 
grim,  Governor  Gumming  felt  some  doubt  as  to 
whether  this  glowing  tribute  was  a  token  of  re- 
spect for  themselves,  or  a  skilful  multiplication  of 
resources  on  the  part  of  the  mountaineers. 


XVI 
THE  PEACE  COMMISSIONERS 


S  the  small  and  weary  party  of  travelers 
went  into  camp  that  night  a  messenger 
rode  quietly  up,  and  gave  a  small  packet 
into  the  hands  of  Stevens.  John  did  not 
unfasten  the  packet  at  once ;  he  had  much  to  do  in 
making  camp  and  preparing  things  for  the  night. 
But  when  the  stillness  of  late  evening  brooded 
over  them,  John  drew  out  from  the  wrapping  a 
half  dozen  letters,  among  them  being  two  of  in- 
structions to  himself  from  General  Wells ;  among 
the  letters  from  friends  and  relatives  to  the  Utah 
squad,  there  was  a  small  missive,  written  in  a 
delicate,  familiar  hand,  addressed  to  Charlie  Rose. 
John  immediately  went  over  to  the  far  side  of  the 
camp  fire  where  Charlie  lay  at  ease,  and  delivered 
the  small  letter.  He  was  quick  to  note  the  sudden 
excitement  which  quivered  along  every  nerve  of 
the  young  fellow,  as  his  fingers  grasped  the  ex- 
pected note  from  Diantha  Winthrop.  Both  knew 
who  had  written  the  letter.  Both  were  moun- 
taineers ;  ready  of  action,  but  slow  to  confide. 

John  took  careful  notice  of  all  his  own  instruc- 
tions, read  by  the  light  of  his  heaped-up  fire.  But 
in  and  through  it  all  his  thoughts  were  centered 


THE  PEACE  COMMISSIONERS       173 

on  that  missive  lying  on  the  heart  of  Charlie  Rose. 
The  remembrance  of  that  letter  lay  in  his  own 
breast  for  many  days,  like  a  coal  of  fire. 

As  the  party  emerged,  two  mornings  later,  June 
7th,  1858,  from  the  last  of  the  canyon  defiles,  they 
were  at  once  struck  with  the  wild  beauty  before 
them.  It  was  a  barren  valley,  through  which 
flowed  a  few  green-fringed  streams,  a  silvery  line 
of  shimmering  water  on  its  western  horizon  be- 
tokening the  presence  of  the  blue  salt  sea,  and 
near  the  northern  mountains  the  prosperous  be- 
ginning of  that  inland  empire,  now  dotted  here 
and  there,  over  the  checker-board  regularity  of 
its  wide-streeted  design,  with  the  green  of  planted 
fruit  and  shade  trees.  The  geometrical  fields 
around  and  beyond  this  incipient  city  amazed  the 
party  with  their  regularity. 

"They  plant  their  whole  civilization  in  accord- 
ance with  the  line  and  plummet  of  order.  Irriga- 
tion makes  the  system  and  regularity  a  vital  ne- 
cessity," explained  the  Governor. 

"How  distinctly  you  can  see  in  this  wonderful 
atmosphere,"  exclaimed  Governor  Powell.  "I 
should  think  that  town  but  a  few  miles  away,  and 
that  lake  shimmering  in  the  distance  is,  how  far 
away?  A  dozen  or  so  miles?" 

The  Governor  smiled  as  he  explained  distances 
and  details  with  the  growing  enthusiasm  which 
ever  belonged  to  even  temporary  ownership  in 
Utah  scenery. 


174       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"This  is  the  most  wonderful  place  in  the  world. 
The  eye  is  not  weary,  the  brain  is  not  taxed,  nor 
the  body  aged,  by  life  in  this  salubrious  climate. 
And  you  can  see  objects  many  miles  away.  In- 
deed the  clearness  of  the  air  makes  distance  a  very 
deceptive  matter." 

"Make  it  all  a  little  more  civilized,"  growled  the 
weary  Major. 

As  the  party  rode  down  into  the  streets,  the 
tomb-like  silence  greeted  them  uncannily,  and  the 
faces  of  the  Commissioners  were  puzzled  and 
anxious. 

"What  does  all  this  deserted  look  mean  ?"  asked 
Major  McCulloch. 

"Sir,"  answered  the  Governor,  "I  must  now  in- 
form you  of  a  condition  in  this  Territory  which  I 
had  hoped  would  be  over  and  done  with  when  we 
returned  to  this  Valley.  Brigham  Young  told  me 
some  weeks  ago  that  he  should  vacate  every  town 
and  hamlet  in  this  Territory.  More,  he  should 
set  fire  to  every  house,  destroy  every  green  thing, 
and  leave  behind  him  a  desolate  waste,  such  as  he 
found  when  he  came  here." 

"Zoun'ds,  man,  how  can  the  old  rebel  dare  to  do 
such  a  thing?"  asked  the  Major. 

"Major  McCulloch,  Brigham  Young  may  be  a 
fanatic,  but  he  is  not  nor  never  has  been,  I  am 
persuaded,  a  rebel.  He  loves  his  country  as  dearly 
as  ever  you  did.  And,  sir,  I  cannot  hear  him  vili- 
fied, even  by  a  Peace  Commissioner."  The  tone 


THE  PEACE  COMMISSIONERS       175 

of  gentle  quiet  in  the  last  words  robbed  them  of 
their  ironical  sting,  and  the  irascible  old  soldier 
grunted  as  he  shifted  his  position  on  his  tired 
steed. 

"These  people  have  been  most  unjustly  treated, 
so  they  think,  and  if  you  are  to  be  peacemakers, 
you  must  meet  them  on  their  own  footing,  and  not 
on  any  stilted  plane  of  your  own  setting  up." 

The  silent  streets,  the  empty  houses,  the  ab- 
sence of  even  a  dog  or  other  animal  was  very 
mournful,  and  not  a  man  in  the  party  but  felt  the 
pressure  of  that  heavy  grief.  The  rattle  of  their 
horses'  feet  echoed  far  up  the  empty  street.  Zion 
had  fled! 

"What  a  pity  there  were  not  poet  or  artist 
here,"  said  Governor  Powell,  as  they  rode  with 
noisy  echoes  along  the  silent  roads.  Overhead  the 
young  cottonwood  trees  were  throwing  delicate 
shadows  upon  the  trickling  streams  that  coursed 
down  by  every  sidewalk.  In  the  well  fenced  city 
lots,  surrounding  the  comfortable  but  lonely  and 
deserted  houses,  had  been  planted  generous  kitch- 
en gardens,  now  withering  and  dun  in  the  swel- 
tering sun.  The  forge  of  the  blacksmith  was  si- 
lent and  black  through  its  widely  opened  door, 
and  most  of  the  windows  and  doors  were  barred 
and  closed,  while  the  flaunting  weeds  in  all  the 
streets  and  sidewalks  bore  eloquent  evidence  of 
the  desertion  of  man. 

"This  is  most  damned  lonesome,Governor  Cum- 


176       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ming.  Not  much  like  your  gaudy  pictures  drawn 
out  in  camp." 

"I  had  hoped  that  Brigham  Young  would  repent 
himself;  for  I  promised  to  make  peace  and  to 
keep  it." 

"Pretty  bold  of  you,  sir,  I  must  say,  sir."  And 
the  old  soldier  sputtered  with  annoyance. 

"Major,  I  brought  my  wife  in  from  Camp  Scott, 
as  you  know,  last  month.  And  when  we  came 
into  this  deserted  city,  partially  deserted  even 
then,  she  could  not  withhold  her  tears.  She  wept 
like  a  child  to  see  this  terrible  sight.  She  besought 
me  as  only  a  tender  woman  could,  to  do  every- 
thing in  my  power  to  bring  this  unhappy  and 
wronged  people  back  into  the  homes  that  their  toil 
and  sacrifices  had  created  in  this  desert  wild.  And, 
sir,  it  is  because  of  those  tears,  and  that  tender 
pleading,  that  you  are  here  today.  I  have  neither 
taken  sleep  nor  food,  except  by  necessity,  till 
President  Buchanan  has  listened  to  my  appeal  and 
has  sent  you  gentlemen  out  to  undo  this  most 
awful  blunder." 

"Sir,"  answered  Governor  Powell,  with  a  note 
of  reverence  in  his  voice,  "your  judgment  is  no 
less  to  be  commended  than  your  sentiment." 

"Quite  right,  sir;  quite  right,"  and  the  bluff 
old  Major  blew  heartily  at  his  bugle  of  a  nose.  "I 
wish  we  may  see  all  this  unhappy  business  well 
settled.  But,  sir,  I  don't  like  this  damned  lone- 
liness!" 

And  neither  did  any  of  them. 


XVII 
BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION 

|  HE  old  Council  House  was  a  scene  of 
profound  excitement  the  next  morning 
after  the  events  recorded  in  the  last 
chapter.  There  were  gathered  in  its 
square  brick  walls  the  leaders  of  a  people  who  had 
been  suspected,  made  an  incipient  war  against, 
tried  and  found  guilty,  and  who  were  now  about 
to  be  forgiven,  when  according  to  their  own  ideas 
they  were  not  guilty  of  one  single  count  in  the 
whole  indictment.  Up  from  the  South  where  the 
people  were  bivouacked,  had  come  two  score  of  the 
leaders  and  elders.  Within  the  larger  council 
chamber  there  was  not  much  talk  that  morning 
and  few  outward  semblances  of  the  suppressed 
excitement.  These  men  were  too  accustomed  to 
action  to  do  much  talking  in  the  face  of  danger. 

Here  and  there  were  a  few  groups  talking  of 
the  possible  outcome  of  the  day,  while  still  oth- 
ers exchanged  whispered  items  of  news  of  the 
families  in  the  South  and  the  mountaineers  in  the 
eastern  canyons. 

As  Brigham  Young  entered  the  room,  accom- 
panied by  Heber  C.  Kimball,  whose  eloquent, 
snapping  black  eyes,  shining  bald  head  and  king- 

12 


178       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ly  form  towered  above  many  of  those  assem- 
bled near,  they  were  greeted  cordially  by  their  as- 
sociates, and  at  once  took  their  seats  on  the  small 
raised  platform  at  the  western  end  of  the  room. 
Almost  at  the  same  time  a  whispered  word  went 
round  that  the  Commissioners  were  at  the  door. 

Captain  Stevens  flung  open  the  inner  door  of 
the  council  chamber  and  announced  quietly : 

"President  Young,  I  beg  leave  to  announce  the 
Peace  Commission." 

As  these  two  gentlemen  entered,  followed  at  a 
little  distance  by  Governor  Gumming,  who  had 
lingered  to  exchange  a  word  with  some  one  in  the 
hall,  Brigham  Young  arose  and  cordially  extended 
a  hand  of  welcome  to  his  new  visitors. 

John  stepped  back  into  the  hall  to  exchange 
greetings  with  some  of  his  friends  and  as  he  stood 
chatting  for  a  moment  he  was  tugged  by  the  coat- 
sleeve  and  turned  around  to  find  Tom  Allen's  jolly 
eyes  beaming  into  his  face. 

With  the  sympathetic  ear  of  a  good  listener, 
John  was  soon  deluged  with  verbal  pictures  of 
conditions  down  in  Prove  and  vicinity.  He  dis- 
covered for  himself  the  bear-hut,  and  saw  its 
present  rejuvenation,  filled  with  the  families  of 
Winthrop  and  Tyler,  who  used  the  two  rooms  as 
dining  room  and  kitchen;  the  half-dozen  wagon 
boxes,  as  of  old  days  on  the  plains,  served  as  bed- 
chambers for  the  two  groups  of  families.  He  knew 
in  a  trice  about  the  birth  of  the  Mathews  twins, 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION      179 

the  quarrel  of  Annie  Moore  with  Stephen  Grace ; 
he  grasped  almost  before  it  was  told,  all  the  details 
of  that  strenuous  and  yet  rather  monotonous  ex- 
istence down  on  the  banks  of  the  shallow  Timpa- 
nogos  or  Provo  river,  as  he  caught  at  random  the 
pictures  flung  at  random  by  his  old  friend  and  as- 
sociate. 

"And,  oh  yes,  don't  go  yet,  John ;  I  must  tell  you 
the  very  latest.  Diantha  Winthrop  is  wearing 
Charlie  Rose's  ring.  How's  that  for  high?" 

The  arrow  struck  where  Torn  vaguely  hoped  it 
would.  If  there  was  one  thing  above  another 
that  pleased  jolly  Tom  Allen  it  was  to  stick  teas- 
ing arrows  into  his  friends.  But  he  did  not  have 
the  satisfaction  of  even  guessing  how  near  his 
shot  had  struck  home,  for  he  was  instantly  swung 
round  and  out  of  the  way  by  Corporal  Rose  him- 
self, who  thus  addressed  himself  to  John : 

"Captain  Stevens,  the  President  is  just  calling 
the  council  to  order,  and  it  is  desired  that  you  shall 
be  with  us  in  the  council." 

John  instantly  accompanied  Corporal  Rose  into 
the  inner  room,  and  Tom  Allen  was  left  to  his  own 
conjectures  and  the  silence  of  the  deserted  hall. 

Within,  the  groups  of  stern-visaged  men  had 
settled  themselves  in  orderly  lines  upon  the  rows 
of  benches,  and  on  the  raised  platform  sat  those 
tried  and  true  friends,  Brigham  Young,  Heber  C. 
Kimball,  George  A.  Smith,  with  handsome  young 
Joseph  F.  Smith  and  General  Wells;  and  here 


180 


John  went  quietly  to  find  his  own  seat  among  the 
few  Utah  officers  sitting  near  General  Wells.  In 
the  center  of  the  aisle  sat  rough  old  A.  P.  Rock- 
wood,  the  commissary-general,  with  utter  indif- 
ference to  his  rawhide  boots  and  faded  blue  over- 
alls, but  with  a  perfect  appreciation  of  his  own 
great  sagacity  and  importance. 

Already  the  council  was  in  operation.  Gover- 
nor Gumming  introduced  ex-Governor  Powell  to 
the  assembly,  and  that  gentleman  proceeded  in 
his  customary  smooth  language  to  recite  the  facts 
connected  with  the  presence  of  the  Commissioners 
in  Utah.  He  referred  to  the  action  of  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  in  sending  out  the  Com- 
mission and  read  in  solemn  tones  the  pardon  sent 
out  by  that  great  executive.  The  pardon  was 
couched  in  somewhat  elusive  terms,  but  it  was 
plain  that  the  "Mormons"  were  accused  of  over 
fifty  crimes  and  misdemeanors,  for  all  of  which  his 
excellency,  the  President,  offered  amnesty  to  all 
who  would  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the 
United  States  government,  and  in  this  acknowl- 
edgment permit  the  troops  now  quartered  out- 
side the  Territory  to  enter  and  take  up  quarters 
within  said  Territory.  The  paper  concluded  with 
a  pledge  of  good  faith  to  all  peaceable  inhabitants 
of  the  Territory,  and  an  assurance  that  neither  the 
Chief  Executive  of  the  Nation  nor  his  representa- 
tives in  the  Territory  would  be  found  interfering 
with  the  religion  or  faith  of  the  inhabitants  of  this 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION      181 

region.  Governor  Powell  emphasized  the  pledge 
on  behalf  of  himself  and  associate  Commissioner. 
He  explained  somewhat  loftily,  yet  in  good  grace, 
that  they  did  not  propose  to  inquire  into  the  past, 
but  to  let  all  that  had  gone  before  alone,  and  to 
talk  and  act  now  only  for  the  future. 

Brigham  Young  called  upon  one  of  his  near  as- 
sociates to  speak:  John  Taylor,  whose  dark  eyes 
looked  out  from  under  his  splendid  brows,  and 
whose  dignified,  courtly  manner  won  the  admira- 
tion of  even  that  bluff  old  Major  McCulloch.  This 
valiant  friend  of  their  late  martyred  Prophet,  Jos- 
eph Smith,  gave  utterance  to  some  fiery  discourse, 
tempered  with  the  desire  to  bring  about  peace,  if 
it  could  be  a  peace  with  honor.  He  was  followed 
by  Brigham  Young's  nearest  friend,  George  A. 
Smith,  who  told  the  Commissioners  in  ten  minutes 
more  of  the  "Mormon"  people's  past  history  than 
even  Governor  Cumming  had  ever  known ;  he  told 
them  that  the  "Mormons"  had  come  out  here  to 
these  barren  vales  "willingly  because  they  had 
to ;"  and  he  added  that  they  were  ready  "if  needs 
must  or  the  devil  drives"  to  seek  other  homes  in 
the  same  manner.  Some  few  but  fiery  words 
were  spoken  by  Adjutant-General  James  Fergu- 
son, and  John's  whole  soul  went  out  to  his  su- 
perior officer,  who  voiced  the  sentiments  of  the 
whole  Utah  militia.  And  then  Brigham  Young 
arose  slowly,  as  though  he  were  too  full  of 
thought  and  the  responsibility  of  his  position  to 


182       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

act  except  with  full  deliberation.  His  voice  was 
stern  and  cool,  but  vibrant,  and  it  cut  into  every 
corner  of  that  council  chamber  with  thrilling  if 
somewhat  sharp  enunciation.  If  his  action  were 
deliberate,  there  was  no  hesitancy  in  his  speech 
He  said: 

"I  have  listened  very  attentively  to  the  Commis- 
sioners, and  will  say,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I 
thank  President  Buchanan  for  forgiving  me,  but  I 
can't  really  tell  what  I  have  done.  I  know  one 
thing,  and  that  is,  that  the  people  called  'Mor- 
mons' are  a  lawful  and  loyal  people,  and  have 
ever  been.  It  is  true  Lot  Smith  burned  some  wag- 
ons last  winter  containing  government  supplies 
for  the  army.  This  was  an  overt  act,  and  if  it  is 
for  this  that  we  are  pardoned,  I  accept  the  par- 
don. The  burning  of  a  few  wagons  is  but  a  small 
item,  yet  for  this,  combined  with  false  reports, 
the  whole  'Mormon'  people  are  to  be  destroyed. 
What  has  the  United  States  government  permit- 
ted mobs  to  do  to  us  in  the  past?  Gentlemen,  you 
can  answer  that  question  for  yourselves.  I  can 
also,  and  so  can  thousands  of  my  brethren.  We 
have  been  plundered  and  whipped ;  and  our  houses 
burned,  our  fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters,  and 
children  butchered  and  murdered  by  the  scores. 
We  have  been  driven  from  our  homes  time  and 
time  again;  but  have  the  troops  ever  been  sent 
to  stay  or  punish  the  mobs  for  their  crimes?  No! 
Have  we  ever  received  a  dollar  for  the  property 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION      183 

that  we  have  been  compelled  to  leave  behind? 
Not  a  dollar !  Let  the  government  of  our  country 
treat  us  as  we  deserve.  That  is  all  we  ask  of  them. 
We  have  always  been  loyal  and  expect  to  continue 
so.  But  hands  off !  Do  not  send  your  armed  mobs 
into  our  midst.  If  you  do,  we  will  fight  you,  as 
the  Lord  lives.  Do  not  threaten  us  with  what  the 
United  States  can  do  and  will  do,  for  we  ask  no 
odds  of  them  or  their  troops.  We  have  the  God  of 
Israel — the  God  of  battles — on  our  side;  and  let 
me  tell  you,  gentlemen,  we  fear  not  your  threats. 
These,  my  brethren,  put  their  trust  in  the  God  of 
Israel,  and  we  have  no  fears.  We  have  proved 
Him,  and  He  is  our  friend.  Boys,  how  do  you 
feel?  Are  you  afraid?" 

Instantly  there  was  a  crash  of  voiced  response 
to  the  man  Brigham's  fearless  words.  They 
might  be  termed  fanatics — these  men — but  they 
could  never  be  called  cowards. 

John  held  his  breath  as  Brigham  Young  con- 
tinued : 

"Now  let  me  say  to  you  Peace  Commissioners : 
we  are  willing  those  troops  should  come  into  our 
Territory,  but  not  to  stay  in  our  cities.  They  may 
pass  through  this  city,  if  needs  be,  but  must  not 
quarter  nearer  than  forty  miles  to  any  city.  If 
you  bring  your  troops  here  to  disturb  this  people, 
you  have  a  bigger  job  on  your  hands  than  you  or 
President  Buchanan  has  any  idea  of.  Before  the 
troops  reach  here,  this  city  will  be  in  ashes,  every 


184       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

tree  and  shrub  will  be  cut  to  the  ground,  and  every 
blade  of  grass  that  will  burn  shall  be  burned.  Our 
wives  and  children  will  go  to  the  canyons  and 
take  shelter  in  the  mountains;  while  their  hus- 
bands and  sons  will  fight  you  to  their  last  breath. 
And  as  God  lives,  we  will  hunt  you  by  night  and 
by  day  till  our  army  or  yours  is  wasted  away. 
No  mob,  armed  or  otherwise,  can  live  in  the 
homes  we  have  builded  in  these  mountains.  That's 
the  program,  gentlemen,  whether  you  like  it  or 
not.  If  you  want  war,  you  can  have  it ;  but  if  you 
wish  peace,  peace  it  is ;  we  shall  be  glad  of  it." 

Once  more  Governor  Powell  arose  and  in  hon- 
eyed tones  he  soothed  the  tumult  of  emotions  now 
swelling  upon  the  high  tide  of  that  stern-visaged 
assembly  of  men.  He  dwelt  with  moving  elo- 
quence upon  the  great  clemency  of  the  President 
of  the  United  States  and  the  magnanimity  of  that 
authority  in  setting  aside  all  past  offenses,  and 
he  told  of  the  bright  future  which  awaited  a 
new  Territory  begun  under  such  favorable  aus- 
pices of  frugality  and  industry.  He  praised  all 
for  their  temperance  and  toil.  He  grew  eloquent 
as  he  moved  along  the  current  of  his  own  fervid 
imagination,  and  his  pictures  of  the  coming  era 
of  peace  and  prosperity  caught,  not  only  his  own 
hearty  sympathy,  but  mollified  and  quieted  the 
turbulent  elements  there.  He  assured  them  that 
the  army  of  the  United  States  would  not  enter  the 
Valley,  only  as  they  were  given  permission  by 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION      185 

^- 

that  gallant  and  humane  Territorial  executive, 
Governor  Gumming.  And  he  was  in  full  cry  upon 
a  swelling  compliment  to  that  genial  peace-pro- 
moter when  the  door  of  the  hall  was  flung  open, 
and  a  barbaric  figure,  hard-ridden  through  miles 
of  flying  dust  and  unwashed  haste,  flung  himself 
into  the  room.  The  old  slouch  hat  upon  the  head 
of  that  dramatic  figure  was  drawn  down  upon  a 
mass  of  braided  hair,  wound  round  and  round 
the  bullet-shaped  head.  The  hooked  nose,  the 
sleepy-lidded  eyes,  half  closed  upon  the  eagle 
glance  of  that  "Mormon"  scout,  Indian  fighter, 
sheriff,  and  free-lance,  Porter  Rockwell,  sent  a 
shivering  thrill  of  apprehension  into  the  breast  of 
every  mountaineer  in  that  chamber.  Porter  Rock- 
well bore  no  trifling  message ! 

A  moment  of  converse  followed  in  hasty,  low- 
ered tones  with  Brigham  Young  behind  the  back 
of  that  eloquent  Kentucky  politician  who  was  just 
then  extolling  the  orderliness  and  clemency  of  the 
troops,  now  quietly  resting  in  Fort  Scott;  and 
then,  up  rose,  without  haste,  but  in  sudden  stern- 
ness, Brigham  Young,  as  he  said  in  piercing  ac- 
cents : 

"Governor  Powell,  Major  McCulloch,  are  you 
aware,  sirs,  that  those  troops  are  on  the  move  to 
this  city?" 

"It  cannot  be,"  answered  the  orator,  Powell,  as 
he  swung  instantly  around  to  face  his  questioner. 
"For  we  were  promised  by  General  Johnston  that 


186       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

they  should  not  move  until  after  this  meeting." 

"I  have  received  a  dispatch,  sir,  that  they  are 
on  the  move  to  this  city,  and  my  messenger  would 
not  deceive  me." 

There  was  a  hush  as  of  the  tomb  on  every  lip 
and  heart  in  that  assembly.  The  thunderbolt  had 
fallen. 

In  that  same  severe  but  perfectly  self-possessed 
voice,  Brigham  Young  asked : 

"Is  Brother  Dunbar  present?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  that  flute-voiced  musician. 

"Brother  Dunbar,  sing  'Zion.'  " 

And  in  the  electrical  silence  which  ensued,  rang 
out  the  clarion  tones  of  the  "Mormon"  battle- 
hymn,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  since  it  embodies 
a  spiritual  triumph  rather  than  a  temporal  subju- 
gation. Brother  Dunbar  sang: 

O!  ye  mountains  high,  where  the  clear  blue  sky 

Arches  over  the  vales  of  the  free, 
Where  the  clear  breezes  blow 
And  the  pure  streamlets  flow, 

How  I've  longed  to  thy  bosom  to  flee. 
O  Zion !  dear  Zion !  home  of  the  free : 
My  own  mountain  home,  now  to  thee  I  have  come, 

All  my  fond  hopes  are  centered  in  thee. 

Though  the  great  and  the  wise  all  thy  beauties  de- 
spise, 
To  the  humble  and  pure  thou  art  dear; 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION       187 

Though  the  haughty  may  smile, 
And  the  wicked  revile, 

Yet  we  love  thy  glad  tidings  to  hear. 
O  Zion !  dear  Zion !  home  of  the  free : 
Though  thou  wert  forced  to  fly  to  thy  chambers 
on  high, 

Yet  we'll  share  joy  and  sorrow  with  thee. 

In  thy  mountain  retreat,  God  will  strengthen  thy 
feet; 

On  the  necks  of  thy  foes  thou  shalt  tread ; 
And  their  silver  and  gold, 
As  the  Prophets  have  told, 

Shall  be  brought  to  adorn  thy  fair  head. 
O  Zion !  dear  Zion !  home  of  the  free ; 
Soon  thy  towers  will  shine  with  a  splendor  divine, 

And  eternal  thy  glory  shall  be. 

Here  our  voices  we'll  raise,  and  we'll  sing  to  thy 
praise, 

Sacred  home  of  the  Prophets  of  God; 
Thy  deliverance  is  nigh, 
Thy  oppressors  shall  die, 

And  the  Gentiles  shall  bow  'neath  thy  rod. 
O  Zion !  dear  Zion !  home  of  the  free : 
In  thy  temples  we'll  bend,  all  thy  rights  we'll  de- 
fend, 

And  our  home  shall  be  ever  with  thee. 

It  was  impossible  to  calm  the  tumult  any  more 


188       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

for  that  day.  Peace  or  war,  the  situation  was  very 
much  in  the  hands  of  Brigham  Young  for  the 
time. 

As  the  three  Eastern  officials  made  their  way 
slowly  out  of  the  door,  with  mingled  chagrin  and 
anger,  Governor  Cumming  asked  his  companions : 

"What  would  you  do  with  such  a  people?" 

"Damn  them,  I  would  fight  them,  if  I  had  my 
way,"  answered  Major  McCulloch,  unconvinced 
that  the  rumor  was  in  any  degree  true. 

"Fight  them,  would  you?"  answered  the  Govern- 
or sadly.  "You  might  fight  them,  but  you  would 
not  whip  them.  They  would  never  know  when 
they  were  whipped.  Did  you  notice  the  fire  and 
flash  in  those  men's  eyes  today?  No,  sir;  they 
would  never  know  when  they  were  whipped." 

"I  fear,"  said  Governor  Powell,  reflectively,  as 
they  retraced  their  way  sadly  through  the  silent 
echoing  streets  to  one  of  the  few  inhabited  houses 
in  the  city,  the  hotel  on  Main  Street,  "I  fear  that 
the  messenger  was  right.  I  had  occasion  to  doubt 
the  rashness  of  General  Johnston's  temper  before 
we  left  the  camp.  Yet,  I  hope,  I  hope  it  is  not 
true.  I  am  loath  to  see  the  blood  of  good  me  a 
shed  for  naught.  But  what  a  strangely  dramatic 
people!  They  sing  their  defiance  instead  of  an- 
nouncing it." 

There  was  another  council  held  the  next  day; 
messengers  were  sent  from  both  the  Peace  Com- 
mission and  Governor  Cumming  to  Camp  Scott, 


BROTHER  DUNBAR  SINGS  ZION      189 

and  at  length  the  whole  matter  was  patched  up, 
and  the  Commissioners  were  permitted  to  have 
their  way.  But  meanwhile  Brigham  Young, 
with  all  his  associates,  had  fled  once  more  to  the 
South  and  the  deserted  streets  of  the  city  were 
pressed  only  by  the  feet  of  the  few  and  scattered 
non-"Mormons"  who  had  chosen  to  remain 
through  all  these  troubles  within  the  borders  of 
the  unhappy  Territory. 


XVIII 
THE  ARMY  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY 

SHE  armies  of  the  United  States  were  to 
enter  the  valleys  of  Utah.    President  Bu- 
chanan had  said  they  must,  the  Peace 
Commission    and    Governor    Cumming 
said  they  ought,  and  Brigham  Young  said  they 
might. 

On  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  June,  1858,  at  day- 
break, the  advance  column  of  the  army  began  its 
march  through  the  streets  of  Great  Salt  Lake  City. 
The  soldiers,  whose  eyes  had  for  so  many 
months  rested  on  desolation,  looked  down  from 
the  mouth  of  Emigration  Canyon  with  a  pleased 
surprise  on  all  the  goodly  evidences  of  civilization 
about  them.  Houses,  with  blinking  windows  and 
comfortable  porches;  wide  streets,  flanked  on 
either  side  with  running  streams  of  clear,  cold, 
canyon  water,  over  whose  rippling  surface 
drooped  in  graceful  lines  the  native  cottonwood, 
which  had  been  dug  from  the  neighboring  canyon 
streams  and  planted  along  every  water-course  to 
furnish  shade  and  rest  for  man  and  beast;  com- 
modious homes,  barns,  fences  and  outbuildings 
gave  this  unique  city  a  look  of  mingled  rural  sim- 
plicity and  urban  attractiveness.  The  huge  blocks 
were  laid  out  in  large  lots,  whereon  sat  with 


THE  ARMY  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY      191 

sturdy  independence  each  snug  house,  its  sur- 
rounding fruit  and  vegetable  plantations  fenced 
in  with  poles  or  cobbles,  thus  forming  a  gener- 
ous combination  of  orchard  and  kitchen  garden. 

The  soldiers  were  not  more  curious  nor  more 
deeply  impressed  with  the  queer  appearance  of 
this  well-built  yet  deserted  city  than  were  the  offi- 
cers, who  rode  here  and  there  inspecting  their  va- 
rious divisions.  Colonel  St.  George  Cooke,  who 
had  been  in  service  with  the  "Mormon"  Battalion 
in  Lower  California,  rode  through  the  city  with 
bared  head  and  gloomy  eye,  as  a  silent  evidence 
of  a  respect  and  sympathy  which  did  his  head  no 
less  honor  than  his  heart. 

One  handsome,  dark-eyed  young  officer  looked 
about  and  rode  from  side  to  side  of  the  silent 
streets,  at  last  opening  a  gaping  gate  wide  and 
riding  within  the  yard,  as  if  unable  to  restrain  his 
curiosity.  As  he  rode  around  to  the  back  of  the 
house,  a  door  opened,  and  a  man  stood  silently 
watching  his  approach. 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,"  patronizingly  said  the 
young  blue-coated  horseman,  "can  you  tell  me  the 
meaning  of  the  extraordinary  appearance  of  this 
extraordinary  city?" 

"What's  extraordinary?"  asked  the  bearded 
man,  leaning  against  the  door  post. 

"Do  you  mean,  what's  the  meaning  of  the  word? 
or  what's  extraordinary  about  the  town?  You 
must  know,  my  man,  that  it  seems  very  strange 


192        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

— to  use  the  simple  terms  suited  to  your  capacity 
— to  find  all  these  good  houses,  barns  and  gardens 
empty  and  to  find  no  living  soul  moving  about. 
Not  a  woman  or  girl,  not  even  a  child  or  dog,  to 
give  active  life  to  your  rural  scene.  Where  are 
your  women  and  children?  I  have  seen  one  or 
two  men,  but  not  a  woman." 

"Don't  see  a  woman,  hey?"  and  John  Stevens 
looked  about  him  with  indifferent  insolence; 
"well,  I  don't  either." 

"Can't  you  answer  a  civil  question,  my  surly 
fellow?  Where  are  your  families?" 

"They  are  out  of  your  reach,  scoundrel,  as  well 
as  out  of  your  sight !  What  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it?" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  afraid ;  the  women  will  find  us  out. 
They  have  a  particular  fondness  for  brass  buttons, 
you  know.  I  have  no  doubt  that  we  shall  find  all 
the  women  we  want,  provided  that  you  big  strap- 
ping fellows  have  a  few  dozen  over  and  above 
your  own  needs." 

The  sneering  yet  airy  tones  of  this  speech  made 
John  Stevens  clinch  his  hands  in  silent  yet  mighty 
anger.  But,  under  orders  to  maintain  peace,  he 
merely  turned  around  and  sauntered  towards  the 
barn,  leaving  his  questioner  to  go  or  stay  as  he 
pleased. 

"What  in  the  name  of  mischief  does  this  deadly 
quiet  and  desertion  mean?"  asked  the  same  offi- 
cer, as  he  rode  out  into  the  street  and  found  his 


THE  ARMY  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY      193 

companions  still  streaming  down  the  silent  road. 

"I  have  just  heard  the  Colonel  say  that  these 
people  have  followed  their  leader,  old  Brigham, 
down  to  the  southern  part  of  the  Territory,  and 
that  they  intend  to  emigrate  to  Mexico,  or — who 
knows — to  Brazil,  maybe.  They  were  determined 
to  give  us  no  excuse  to  kill  them  or  to  even  ad- 
minister the  punishment  they  so  richly  deserve." 

"Run  away,  have  they?  Well,  that's  cool.  Here 
we've  come  out  over  the  most  forsaken  country 
in  all  the  United  States ;  have  passed  the  beastliest 
winter  ever  seen  by  soldiers,  since  Moscow,  and 
yet  when  we  are  here  ready  to  get  in  our  work, 
behold  the  sacrifice  has  picked  up  his  heels  and 
fled  ingloriously." 

"Not  even  having  the  grace  to  leave  us  a  scrub- 
by ram  caught  in  the  thicket.  Too  bad,  old  fel- 
low. What  about  all  your  plans  for  a  modern 
seraglio?  No  doubt  the  women  are  kept  under  the 
closest  surveillance,  wherever  they  are." 

"Oh,  well,  as  I  told  a  raw-boned  fellow  in  the 
dooryard  back  there,  if  the  women  get  a  sight  of 
us,  they  will  follow  us  without  our  even  going  to 
the  trouble  to  whistle  for  them.  I  have  known 
the  dear  creatures  all  my  life,  don't  you  know?" 

All  day,  the  tramp,  tramp  of  armed  men,  the 
rattle  of  heavy  field-pieces,  the  jingle  of  swords 
and  guns,  the  rumble  of  baggage  wagons,  with 
occasional  bursts  of  music  from  the  regimental 
bands — these  were  the  only  sounds  heard  through 

is 


194       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

the  tomb-like  and  deserted  streets.  So  profound 
was  the  silence  that,  at  intervals,  between  the 
passage  of  the  columns,  the  slight  monotonous 
gurgle  of  City  Creek  struck  on  every  ear.  The 
only  living  creatures  to  be  seen  was  the  group 
of  men  who  stood  around  Governor  Cumming  on 
the  Council  House  corner  and  waved  a  cheerful 
yet  subdued  salute  to  the  troops,  as  they  filed 
lustily  by.  Inside  of  many  of  these  houses,  no 
sign  of  inhabiting  life  remained;  the  furnituie 
was  piled  in  great  heaps,  with  under  portions  of 
shavings  and  kindlings  and  straw,  ready  to  be 
burned  at  a  moment's  notice;  while  in  a  few 
houses  there  were  eager  watching,  silent  men  in- 
side, who  held  flint  and  steel  ready  to  apply  to 
these  crisp  piles  of  shavings  if  ever  the  marching 
feet  outside  had  stopped  and  attempted  any  dese- 
cration. Outside,  everywhere,  great  piles  of  straw 
lay  upon  grass,  garden  and  outbuildings ;  all  ready 
for  the  instant  torch  of  destruction. 

All  day,  all  day,  the  marching  feet  and  wonder- 
ing eyes  passed  through  the  desolate  streets. 
There  were  no  stops,  no  breaking  of  ranks,  save 
here  and  there,  where  some  daring  soldier's  hand 
would  seize  and  pluck  a  fragrant  bloom  from  a 
flaunting  rose-bush,  or  a  thirsty,  dust-stained  sol- 
dier would  stoop,  and  making  a  cup  of  his  hands, 
drink  of  the  running,  sparkling  streams  along  the 
road.  The  divisions  clanged  heavily  along  with 
no  rest  to  the  steady,  onward,  measured  march. 


THE  ARMY  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY      195 

The  fragrant  grass-grown  streets  were  not  more 
eloquent  of  a  whole  people's  sorrowing  desertion 
than  were  the  sun-rotting  barrels  and  buckets 
near  the  unused  wells  of  water. 

Forty  miles  to  the  south  there  awaited  in  the 
silent  desert  the  spot  where  these  journeying 
troops  would  halt  in  their  march,  and  striking  per- 
manent camp,  sojourn  for  a  season.  But  the 
army  would  camp  for  the  night  on  the  dry  plain 
across  the  river  Jordan  to  the  west  of  the  City. 

As  the  last  company  of  soldiers  filed  past  the 
western  streets  in  the  late  summer  evening,  John 
Stevens  warily  closed  his  own  and  other  doors  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  together  with  a  party  of 
scouts,  he  rode  stealthily  down  to  the  army  camp, 
made  temporarily  a  couple  of  miles  beyond  the 
river  Jordan.  He  watched  in  silent  suspicion  the 
whole  night  through,  and  when  morning  light 
found  men  and  camp-followers  astir,  he,  too,  was 
on  the  alert,  and  at  a  safe  distance  he  followed 
the  long  moving  column  for  two  days  as  it 
stretched  from  the  banks  of  the  river  Jordan  down 
through  the  narrow  pass  beside  the  treacherous 
stream's  banks.  On  and  on  the  marching  lines 
flowed  heavily  down  the  southern  road,  past  the 
northern  edge  of  the  lovely  sheet  of  blue,  clear 
water  called  Utah  Lake;  around  and  around  this 
lake  the  road  ran,  past  the  northern  shores  of  its 
clear  blue  glory ;  past  the  chain  of  canyon  defiles 
which  opened  at  last  into  the  Cedar  Valley,  and 


196 


down  into  the  heart  of  that  desert  vale,  where 
only  the  cricket  and  sage-brush  gave  evidence  of 
animal  or  vegetable  life.  Here  on  the  valley's  one 
water  course  the  army  halted.  They  made  their 
permanent  quarters  there  and  called  their  first 
Utah  camp  "Floyd,"  in  honor  of  the  Secretary  of 
War. 

Here,  then,  the  army  of  the  United  States  was 
quartered,  with  the  approval  of  the  great  and 
distant  heads  of  the  Government,  and  the  disap- 
proval of  the  surrounding  bands  of  half-hungry 
and  half -frightened  Ute  and  Pauvan  Indians; 
with  the  grudged  consent  of  General  Albert  Sid- 
ney Johnston,  and  the  silent  acquiescence,  that 
armed  truce,  of  the  intrepid  "Mormon"  leader, 
Brigham  Young. 

As  the  last  tent  was  set,  and  the  whole  machin- 
ery of  camp  life  once  more  set  in  motion,  Captain 
John  Stevens  found  himself  at  liberty  to  ride,  with 
his  companions,  into  the  southern  rendezvous  of 
his  people,  at  Provo,  and  to  make  due  report  to 
his  commanding  officers.  As  he  turned  his  face 
eastward  and  rode  at  the  head  of  his  company  his 
relieved  thoughts  flew  from  those  larger  affairs  of 
state  to  his  personal  affairs;  and  he  wondered 
silently  whether  it  were  whim  or  affection  which 
kept  Charlie  Rose's  ring  on  the  finger  of  Diantha 
Winthrop.  If  it  were  whim — well,  eternity  was 
very  long;  if  it  were  affection— 

"Corporal  Rose,"  he  said,  somewhat  sharply, 


THE  ARMY  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY      197 

"we  shall  take  no  rest  for  dinner,  but  press  on  at 
once  for  Prove." 

And  Corporal  Rose,  albeit  full  of  wonder  as  to 
the  sharpness  and  the  haste,  was  very  glad  to 
ride  straight  on  to  Provo. 


XIX 

TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM 

OST  of  the  Saints  had  halted  in  Provo; 
here  on  the  banks  of  that  brawling  river, 
called  by  the  Indians,  in  soft  labials, 
Timpanogos,  had  grown  up  a  large  tem- 
porary metropolis ;  and  that  half-tented,  half-dom- 
iciled host,  whose  human  hearts  beat  with  hopes 
and  fears,  and  whose  tongues  and  thoughts  were 
still  very  human,  in  spite  of  the  past,  the  discom- 
fort of  the  present,  and  the  grave  uncertainty  of 
the  future,  carried  on  life's  daily  details  with  fitful 
regularity.  Thirty  thousand  people  were  en- 
camped in  the  beautiful  Utah  Valley,  around  the 
borders  of  Utah  Lake. 

The  swimmer,  across  the  Grecian  gulf  was  far 
more  interested  in  tfie  exact  measure  of  his  stroke 
than  in  the  record  he  would  make  in  future  his- 
tory. So,  too,  on  the  banks  of  the  Timpanogos, 
men  were  more  interested  in  the  withering  crops 
in  the  Salt  Lake  Valley  than  they  were  in  the  se- 
cession of  the  South  or  in  the  possible  outcome  of 
their  own  difficulties.  So  there  sat  in  Provo,  in  a 
small,  dingy  back  room,  two  girls,  just  now  vitally 
interested  in  making  a  huge  pot  of  cornmeal  mush 
for  the  supper  of  two  or  three  associated  families. 
The  unwieldy  vessel  swung  from  the  crane  over 


TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM   199 

the  huge  fire-place.  The  strenuous  excitement  of 
the  Move  had  gradually  subsided,  leaving  the 
young  people  at  least  once  more  gaily  afloat  on 
the  seas  of  their  own  impulses,  their  own  fears 
and  their  own  loves. 

"Don't  stop  stirring  that  cornmeal,  Dian,  until 
it  is  thoroughly  cooked,"  said  Rachel  Winthrop, 
as  she  entered  the  hut.  "You  know  that  your 
brother  hates  raw  mush;  and  it  is  a  science  to 
know  how  to  cook  it.  When  it  has  boiled  a  good 
half  hour,  I  will  come  in  and  stir  in  the  flour  to 
thicken  it." 

The  girl  bent  over  the  fire-place  and  stirred  the 
bubbling  mass  in  the  pot,  while  her  pink  cheeks 
turned  to  rosy  red. 

"Oh,  Ellie,  what  a  nuisance  a  fireplace  is,  any- 
how. I  didn't  half  appreciate  our  good  step-stove 
until  I  came  here  and  had  to  work  on  this." 

"Never  mind,  Dian,  I  shall  have  these  batter 
cakes  in  the  skillet  baked  in  a  minute,  and  then 
I  will  stir  it  for  a  while." 

"Standing  over  a  fire  like  this  makes  my  cheeks 
just  like  ugly  old  purple  hollyhocks.  It's  all  I 
can  do  to  get  along  with  my  homely  red  cheeks 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  when  I  get 
over  a  fire  it  simply  makes  me  hideous." 

'"Oh,  no  such  thing ;  why  do  you  care,  anyway, 
Dian,  there's  no  one  here  to  see  you?" 

"Don't  need  to  be!  I  am  conscious  of  it  and 
that  is  enough." 


200       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Say,  Dian,  do  you  miss  John  Stevens?  I  am 
just  homesick  to  see  him.  We  have  scarcely  laid 
eyes  on  him  this  winter  or  spring." 

"No,  I  can't  say  that  I  care.  John  is  good 
enough,  but  he  is  so  quiet;  I  believe  he  is  too 
tame  to  really  amount  to  much." 

"Tame!  John  Stevens  tame!  Well,  Dian,  I 
gave  you  credit  for  more  discernment  than  that. 
Why,  I  don't  believe  that  there  is  a  braver  or 
more  passionate  man  living  than  John  Stevens." 

"Oh,  I  don't  say  but  what  he  has  temper 
enough ;  the  flash  in  his  eyes  tells  that ;  but  I  mean 
he  is  tame  around  women.  He  pokes  around  as 
if  he  didn't  care  whether  you  were  alive  or  dead. 
I  like  some  one  with  eyes  and  ears.  Some  one 
who  has  a  grain  of  gallantry  in  him.  Not  such 
a  stick  as  John  Stevens." 

"Why  don't  you  set  your  cap  for  Tom  Allen? 
He  has  eyes  and  ears  for  nothing  else  than 
women." 

"And  his  dinner!  Tom  Allen!  Oh,  my!  He 
has  no  more  romance  in  him  than  a  dinner  plate. 
Just  think  of  it !" 

And  the  girl  laughed  and  laughed  that  silvery, 
teasing,  rippling  laughter,  till  her  mush  sputtered 
and  boiled  over  with  indignation,  into  the  glowing 
coals  of  the  fire-place. 

"Well,  you  may  laugh,  but  I  really  think  that 
Tom  Allen  is  as  nice  as  he  can  be.  He  may  be 
funny  and  droll,  but  he  has  a  great  big  heart  in 


TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM   201 

him,  and  if  he  wasn't  engaged  to  Luna  Hyde  I 
would  set  my  cap  for  him  myself." 

"Oh,  Ellie,  Ellie;  you  could  flirt  with  anybody, 
and  could,  I  verily  believe,  love  anybody  that  gave 
you  good  reason  not  to,  but  my  heart  is  of  less  im- 
pressionable material.  It  isn't  so  gentle  and  lov- 
able as  your  dear  little  one." 

Evidently  Ellie  wanted  to  turn  the  talk  away 
from  herself,  so  she  offered  to  stir  the  mush,  while 
Diantha  watched  the  cakes.  The  conversation 
drifted  to  their  immediate  surroundings. 

Several  families  had  decided  to  put  their  for- 
tunes together  during  the  Move  period,  and  the 
Winthrops,  Tylers,  and  a  family  of  Prescotts,  who 
had  several  little  children,  and  Tom  Allen  and 
his  mother  were  all  living  crowded  together  in  one 
or  two  little  log  houses  on  the  Provo  River's 
banks.  Ellen's  mind  was  dwelling  just  now  on 
jolly  Tom  Allen,  who  spent  no  time  at  work  or 
play  which  was  not  well  interspersed  with  fun; 
fun  which  was  innocent  in  itself,  but  which  some- 
times led  to  injured  feelings. 

"C6me,  girls,"  said  Rachel  Winthrop,  entering 
the  kitchen,  "I  know  you  must  be  ready  and  the 
folks  are  gathering  in  for  supper.  Here,  Dian, 
stir  in  this  flour  slowly  and  carefully,  and  I  will 
be  ready  to.  take  it  up  in  just  one  minute." 

The  united  families  were  soon  gathered  at  one 
long  table,  each  person  impatient  for  his  frugal 
meal,  and  each  filled  with  the  primal  thoughts  and 


202       JOHN  STEVEN'S  COURTSHIP 

impulses  common  to  all  humanity.  Had  any  one 
of  them  been  conscious  of  the  real  pathos  of  their 
situation,  the  scene  might  have  melted  such  an 
one  to  tears.  Driven  from  comfortable,  hard- 
earned  homes,  through  fear  of  armed  violence, 
these  four  or  five  families — like  thousands  of  their 
friends — unable  even  to  get  a  home  to  shelter 
them  from  the  winds  and  storms  of  the  late  spring 
weather,  were  all  huddled  together  in  these  three 
small  log  rooms.  They  were  compelled  to  make 
beds  on  the  floors  for  the  children  and  to  use  their 
wagon-boxes  for  their  own  sleeping  compart- 
ments; and  the  utmost  precaution  was  necessary 
to  maintain  order  and  decency  in  their  crowded 
condition.  The  good  people  of  Provo  were  taxed 
to  the  extreme  to  give  shelter  and  comfort  to  the 
fleeing  thousands  who  had  suddenly  called  upon 
their  hospitality.  Tents,  boweries,  shanties,  and 
rude  structures  of  all  kinds  were  pressed  into  serv- 
ice. And  the  people  who  could  secure  shelter  of 
any  sort  were  deemed  fortunate.  The  work 
pressed  hardest  upon  the  women.  Compelled  to 
carry  on  the  common  vocations  of  life  under  such 
circumstances,  the  weekly  washings,  ironings, 
cleanings,  and  cookings  taxed  even  the  most  pa- 
tient and  strong  to  the  uttermost.  Our  friends 
were  lucky  in  having  Aunt  Clara  Tyler  included  in 
their  number,  for  she  went  about  in  her  quiet  way, 
healing  wounds  made  by  thoughtless  tongues, 
and  holding  back  the  quick  anger  which  pressed 


TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM   203 

so  hard  upon  irritated  nerves  and  worn-out  bodies. 
There  was  a  saying,  when  Aunt  Clara  invited 
someone  to  take  a  walk  along  the  river  bank  with 
her,  "There  goes  Aunt  Clara — not  to  cleanse  the 
cups,  but  to  mend  some  broken  heart." 

Aunt  Clara  and  her  friends  were  not  the  only 
ones  who  took  walks  by  the  river  banks.  It  came 
to  be  a  common  thing  for  Tom  Allen  and  Ellen 
Tyler  to  stroll  up  and  down  its  winding  paths, 
talking  sometimes  seriously  and  sometimes  in  that 
quizzical  way  so  common  to  Tom.  Sweet  little 
hungry  heart!  Ellen  was  a  loving  soul,  whose 
worst  fault  was  a  selfish  weakness,  a  trait  often 
admired  in  a  sheltered  woman,  but  dangerous  in 
one  thrown  upon  her  own  strength.  She  must, 
however,  learn  her  lessons,  as  we  must  learn  ours. 

One  day  in  the  late  spring,  Ellen  came  home 
from  her  walk  unusually  pensive  and  thoughtful. 
She  waited  till  after  the  evening  prayers,  and  then 
asked  Diantha  to  go  with  her  down  by  the  big 
cottonwood  tree,  for  she  had  something  to  tell  her. 
Sitting  down  on  a  grassy  knoll,  under  the  twink- 
ling young  stars,  Ellen  poured  out  her  heart's  con- 
fidence. 

"You  know  how  much  Tom  thinks  of  his  re- 
ligion, Dian,  in  spite  of  his  odd  ways.  He  is  as 
good  a  Saint  as  the  best,  if  he  does  make  light  of 
some  things.  I  know  his  heart,  for  he  has  shown 
it  to  me,  and  I  know  he  is  one  of  our  best  men." 

Dian  looked  as  if  she  would  like  to  introduce 


204       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

some  of  her  own  reflections  upon  the  sincerity  of 
Tom's  religious  professions,  but  from  the  serious 
tone  of  her  friend's  voice,  she  felt  constrained  to 
be  as  charitable  as  possible.  So  she  contented  her- 
self with  saying : 

"Oh,  yes,  Tom  is  good  enough.  I  don't  believe 
he  would  do  anything  really  dishonorable  or  bad 
for  the  world." 

"Oh,  Dian,  he  is  really  and  truly  a  dear,  good 
soul.  I  want  you  to  know  him  better.  For  if  you 
do,  you  will  surely  love  him  better." 

Again  Diantha  looked  her  doubt  upon  this 
point;  but  the  dim  light  of  the  young  moon  did 
not  betray  her  opinion,  plainly  as  it  was  expressed 
upon  her  mobile  face. 

"Dian,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  and  ask 
you  for  your  advice.  You  know  I  have  great  con- 
fidence in  your  judgment." 

"Better  ask  Aunt  Clara,"  said  Diantha,  afraid  to 
trust  her  own  opinion,  where  Tom  Allen  was  con- 
cerned. 

"No,  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Maybe  some  day  I 
will  tell  Aunt  Clara,  too ;  but,  just  now,  I  feel  like 
telling  you." 

The  girl  sat  with  her  hand  resting  on  her  cheek, 
gazing  into  the  clear  starry  sky  above  them 
After  a  pause  she  said  slowly : 

"Dian,  do  you  believe  in  dreams  and  visions?" 
"Why,  yes,  of  course  I  do;  if  they  are  of  the 


TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM   205 

right  kind,  and  not  brought  on  by  eating  too 
much." 

"Well,  I  believe  that  we  get  many  revelations 
through  our  dreams,  if  we  only  knew  how  to  inter- 
pret them."  Another  pause;  then  the  girl  said 
softly:  "Dian,  Tom  Allen  has  had  a  dream  or 
vision  about  me." 

The  idea  of  Tom  Allen  having  anything  so  seri- 
ous as  a  vision  almost  upset  Diantha,  but  she  con- 
trolled herself  and  asked: 

"What  was  the  vision?"  Diantha  was  rather 
curious  now  to  know  if  she  had  been  really  mis- 
taken in  her  estimate  of  Tom's  character. 

"Tom  dreamed,  or  was  carried  away  in  a  vision, 
and  thought  he  lay  upon  his  bed,  very  sick  and 
nigh  to  death.  As  he  lay  there,  pondering  upon 
the  past  and  future,  he  said  he  saw  his  door  opeii 
softly,  and,  surrounded  by  a  white  light,  I  entered 
the  room,  with  a  banner  in  my  hand,  on  which 
was  inscribed:  'Marriage  or  death.'  Then  the 
dream  ended." 

Diantha  looked  at  the  serious  face  of  her  friend 
for  one  moment,  and  tried  to  get  up  and  get  away, 
but  it  was  no  use.  Her  keen  sense  of  the  ridicu- 
lous rendered  her  so  weak  with  inward  laughter, 
that,  at  last,  she  sank  back  upon  the  earth,  and 
broke  forth  into  peal  after  peal  of  ringing,  hearty, 
uproarious  laughter.  She  fairly  screamed  at  the 
last,  the  absurdity  of  it  all  so  overcame  her  that 
she  could  not  control  her  mirth. 


206       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  girls?"  asked  Ra- 
chel Winthrop,  coming  out  of  the  house  to  see 
the  cause  of  this  violent  laughter. 

"Nothing,  only  one  of  Tom  Allen's  jokes,"  an- 
swered Diantha,  for  Ellen  was  too  offended  to  say 
anything  at  all. 

"Why,  Dian,  don't  you  think  he  dreamed  that?" 
Ellen  asked  at  last,  in  a  hurt,  low  voice. 

"If  he  did,  he  dreamed  it  with  his  eyes  wide 
open,  depend  on  that.  Oh,  Ellie,  Ellie;  anyone 
who  pretends  to  be  good  and  who  is  good  to  you, 
can  pull  the  wool  over  your  eyes,  you  dear  little 
confiding  thing." 

But  Ellen  felt  as  if  some  one  through  this  act, 
small  as  it  seemed,  had  torn  from  her  eyes  a  veil 
of  confidence  in  things  good  and  true  that  no  one 
could  ever  replace.  If  things  could  only  be  differ- 
ent in  this  life !  If  she  had  only  told  Aunt  Clara, 
she  would  have  so  measured  her  judgment  and 
comment  that  this  event  would  have  strength- 
ened Ellen's  faith,  while  pointing  out  the  ab- 
surdity in  a  sweet,  motherly  way!  But  to  have 
Tom  tell  her  such  a  thing;  thus  treating  a  sacred 
sacrament  as  a  matter  of  light  ridicule — this  was 
most  galling;  and  that  she  could  believe  it,  too! 
It  cut  Ellen  to  the  soul,  to  have  her  friend  laugh 
so,  as  much  at  her  own  childish  simplicity  as  at 
Tom's  foolery.  Oh,  it  was  cruel ! 

But  Diantha  could  not  help  laughing.  The 
ridiculous  picture,  the  banner;  the  inscription;  it 


TOM  ALLEN  DREAMS  A  DREAM   207 

was  too  funny!  Ah,  foolish  youth,  so  credulous, 
so  incredulous,  so  tender,  and  yet  so  cruel!  And 
only  poets  and  prophets  may  tell  us  which  is 
comedy  and  which  is  tragedy.  For  laughter  may 
presage  death,  while  death  itself  is  the  door  to  love 
and  life  eternal! 


XX 

A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS 

HERE  was  a  coolness  between  the  two 
girls    after   the    dream    episode,    which 
lasted  for  a  number  of  weeks.    Diantha 
could  not  see  why  her  friend  should  take 
offense  at  such  a  trifle,  as  she  termed  it. 

As  for  Ellen,  she  felt  in  an  indefinable  way,  that 
somebody  had,  with  the  tiny  point  of  a  pin,  shat- 
tered what  to  her  had  been  the  most  beautiful 
bubble  she  had  ever  possessed.  She  was  too  little 
inclined  to  look  back  of  events  for  causes,  to  at- 
tempt any  rational  explanation  of  the  whole  mat- 
ter; she  only  knew  that  it  had  been  delightfully 
romantic  to  fancy  herself  the  subject  of  a  vision 
and  to  feel  she  was  the  chosen  of  heaven  for  ex- 
alted positions;  and  when  her  one  foolish  trust 
had  been  shaken  and  her  dream  rudely  dispelled, 
she  felt  as  if  there  was  not  truth  or  stability  in 
anyone  or  anything.  The  blow  was  crueller  than 
her  friend  had  any  idea  of ;  what  the  results  would 
be  only  time  and  the  offended  girl's  actions  could 
tell. 

Ellen  now  took  her  walks  by  the  river  alone. 
She  shunned  Tom  Allen  as  coldly  as  she  did 
Diantha  Winthrop.  She  would  wander  off,  and 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  209 

with  a  pensiveness  peculiar  in  one  so  light-heart- 
ed, avoided  everyone,  whether  friend  or  stranger. 
She  would  go  to  the  old  bathing  place  and  after 
lying  on  the  grass  for  hours  in  moody  silence,  slip 
on  her  old  home-spun  bathing  dress,  and  plunging 
into  the  cool  waters  of  the  river,  she  would  lave 
her  hot  and  tired  limbs  in  the  cooling  waters,  after 
which  she  would  feel  better  and  able  to  go  back 
once  more  to  an  existence  which  had  become  mon- 
otonous and  dreary.  Love  and  admiration  are 
as  necessary  to  women  of  Ellen's  affectionate 
nature  as  are  sunlight  and  warmth  to  growing 
plants. 

One  late  spring  afternoon  she  was,  as  usual, 
sporting  and  dashing  around  in  the  clear,  swift 
stream,  when  suddenly  raising  her  eyes,  she  saw 
on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river  a  young  man  on 
a  fine,  restless,  white  charger;  he  was  dressed  in 
the  becoming  blue  of  a  soldier;  on  his  coat  glit- 
tered and  dazzled  rows  of  brass  buttons,  and  on 
his  shoulders  gleamed  the  insignia  of  army  rank. 
He  was  looking  at  her  very  earnestly,  and  yet 
without  seeming  rudeness.  Ellen  sank  at  once 
into  the  water,  so  that  nothing  was  visible  but 
her  head,  and,  turning  away  her  face,  hurriedly 
made  for  the  shore,  creeping  along  under  the 
water  as  it  grew  shallower.  The  horseman,  di- 
vining her  fright,  or  actuated  by  some  other  mo- 
tive, turned  his  horse's  head,  and  galloped  away 


14 


210       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

in  the  direction  of  the  ford,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
above  where  she  had  been  bathing. 

Oh,  if  she  could  only  reach  the  shelter  of  her 
own  home  before  this  stranger  could  find  her 
retreat !  She  flew  to  her  leafy  dressing-room,  and 
with  flying  fingers  adjusted  her  clothing,  flinging 
her  bathing-dress  on  the  bushes  and  with  heavy 
heart-beats  in  her  throat  she  sped  along  the  path 
to  her  home.  She  found  that  Aunt  Clara  had  gone 
to  a  distant  house  where  a  child  had  died.  Aunt 
Clara  was  away  from  home  very  much  in  those 
long  summer  days.  She  was  busy  with  the  sick 
bodies  of  her  people;  alas  that  she  knew  naught 
of  the  sick  soul  of  one  of  the  creatures  that  she 
loved  better  than  she  did  her  own  life ! 

How  Ellen  longed  to  spring  into  her  friend 
Diantha's  arms,  and  to  tell  her  all  that  had  hap- 
pened !  But  Dian  was  not  at  home,  and  when  El- 
len learned  that  she  had  gone  out  horseback  rid- 
ing with  Tom  Allen  she  wondered  with  a  queer 
little  hurt  in  her  heart  if  a  small  jealousy  had 
prompted  part  of  Diantha's  cruel  mirth  at  her 
own  expense. 

Three  days  passed  before  Ellen  ventured  to 
take  her  customary  walk  by  the  river  side.  Then, 
indeed,  her  heart  fluttered  and  sank,  as  she  ap- 
proached her  leafy  bower.  But  she  saw  no  one 
and  heard  no  sound  to  disturb  her  peace-  She  al- 
most wondered,  as  she  visited  the  spot  day  after 
day,  if  she  had  not  possibly  dreamed  she  saw  the 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  211 

soldier  on  the  opposite  bank.  She  was  getting 
silly  on  the  subject  of  dreams,  she  told  herself, 
scornfully. 

One  lovely  afternoon,  as  the  canyon  breezes 
were  blowing  down  from  the  many  clefts  in  the 
eastern  mountain  walls,  with  the  bees  humming 
about  her  the  song  of  the  desert  as  they  seized 
the  sweets  of  every  flower  in  her  path,  and  the 
distant  sound  of  the  foaming  river  just  insist- 
ent enough  to  mingle  with  the  rustle  of  the  cot- 
tonwood  trees  over  her  head,  Ellen  strolled  along 
the  accustomed  path,  and  with  nimble  fingers 
wove  for  her  uncovered  brown  braids  a  wreath  of 
wild  grasses  and  the  pale  purple  daisies  which 
skirted  every  path  in  generous  profusion. 

She  thought  resentfully  of  the  many  flowers 
which  Aunt  Clara  said  grew  in  such  generous 
loveliness  in  her  own  native  Massachusetts  hills; 
there  was  nothing  but  hardship  and  desolation  in 
Utah,  with  common  daisies  and  cheap  grasses  for 
flowers.  But  on  she  wandered,  sometimes  hum- 
ming softly  and  sometimes  bitterly  reflecting  on 
her  many  trials,  as  she  recalled  the  daily  annoy- 
ances of  her  life.  Suddenly  she  saw,  a  little  ahead 
of  her  and  out  in  the  thick  brush,  a  blue-coated 
man,  either  dead  or  asleep. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  fly  as  with  the  wind, 
for  her  own  safe  home.  But  there  was  a  sort  of 
unnatural  look  about  the  figure;  a  distortion 
which  could  not  mean  sleep.  She  paused,  her  heart 


212       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

making  such  confusion  that  she  had  to  hold  her 
hand  over  it  for  a  moment  to  still  its  wild  beating. 
Then,  with  a  vague,  dark  fear,  her  heart  now 
choking  her  delicate  throat,  she  cautiously  ap- 
proached the  recumbent  figure.  No,  he  certainly 
was  not  asleep,  for  his  head  hung  down  limp  over 
the  bushes  in  a  helpless  way  which  could  never 
be  sleep.  And  as  she  approached  nearer,  she  saw 
his  arm  flung  out,  the  sleeve  drawn  tightly  up, 
and  a  stream  of  blood  pouring  over  the  white  cuff 
of  the  shirt  and  staining  the  outer  blue  sleeve 
with  its  dull  sanguinary  hue. 

She  looked  at  the  face!  It  was  colorless,  and 
the  lips  were  parted  under  the  dark  mustache,  as 
if  in  death  itself.  What  should  she  do?  Again 
the  wild  impulse,  the  whispering  voice  in  her 
heart,  clamored  for  her  to  turn  and  flee  to  her 
own  home  and  send  some  one  out  who  could  do 
much  more  than  she,  an  ignorant  girl.  But  what 
if  the  soldier  should  die  while  she  was  traveling 
all  that  distance?  She  looked  into  the  face;  it 
was  handsome  in  the  extreme,  and  about  the 
whole  figure  there  was  an  indefinable  clinging 
fascination,  which  drew  her  onward  so  uncon- 
sciously, that  she  hardly  realized  what  decision 
she  had  made  until  she  found  herself  on  her  knees 
beside  the  recumbent  form,  tying  up  the  gaping 
wound  in  the  arm  as  tightly  as  she  could  with  her 
own  homely  but  strong  cotton  handkerchief ;  then 
over  her  own,  she  tied  his  own  large  handkerchief, 


213 


which  she  did  not  fail  to  notice  was  of  the  finest 
texture  and  of  snowy  whiteness.  She  ran  down  to 
the  river,  and  filling  the  pretty  blue  soldier  cap 
with  water,  managed  to  get  a  little  between  his 
lips,  and  then  she  bathed  his  head  and  moistened 
his  pale  brows. 

It  seemed  hours  to  her,  but  it  was  only  a  few 
minutes,  before  the  dark  eyes  opened  and  gazed 
with  seeming  stupidity  into  her  own.  Then  life 
returned  to  his  face  with  a  look,  which  in  some 
way  thrilled  her  to  her  very  finger-tips — she  could 
not  say  whether  it  gave  more  pleasure  or  pain — 
as  it  crept  into  the  eyes  of  the  soldier,  and  he 
gazed  silently  into  the  face  bent  over  him- 

Ellen  colored  and  turned  away,  ostensibly  for 
more  water.  The  young  soldier  again  seemed  to 
sink  into  a  faint  and  again  she  bathed  and  soothed 
his  lips  and  head  with  the  cool  water,  using  her 
own  modest  apron  to  lay  across  his  head  as  a 
bandage. 

Without  opening  his  eyes,  the  young  man  faint- 
ly gasped: 

"Will  you  tell  me  where  I  am  and  what  has 
happened?" 

"Indeed,  sir,  I  do  not  know.  I  found  you  lying 
here  when  I  came  along  the  path,  and  have  done 
what  I  could  to  help  you  to  recover." 

Ellen  asked  no  questions  of  the  young  man,  her 
native  modesty  closing  her  lips;  yet  she  was  deep- 


214       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ly  anxious  to  know  what  had  caused  the  singular 
accident. 

"Be  good  enough  to  hold  my  arm  up,  so  the 
blood  may  not  surge  so  painfully  in  the  wound, 
will  you?" 

Ellen  obediently  held  up  his  arm,  resting  his 
elbow  on  her  own  knee  to  give  it  a  firmer  support. 

"The  last  I  remember,"  whispered  the  young 
man,  "two  horsemen  were  coming  towards  me, 
and  one  seemed  to  threaten  me  with  an  open 
knife  or  dagger.  I  threw  up  my  hand  to  ward  the 
blow  from  my  heart,  and  I  knew  no  more." 

This  peculiar  story  seemed  to  imply  to  Ellen's 
mind  that  some  of  her  own  people  had  noted  the 
young  man,  and  had  tried  either  to  kill  or  maim 
him.  But  she  said  nothing.  Presently  the  girl 
grew  brave  enough  to  look  at  the  handsome  face 
beside  her,  as  the  eyes  now  remained  closed,  and 
the  stranger  seemed  too  exhausted  to  talk  more. 
How  fine  and  silky  was  the  dark  mustache  which 
drooped  charmingly  over  the  well-cut  mouth.  The 
lips  were  very  full;  the  chin  was  not  so  hand- 
some and  well-cut  as  the  mouth ;  but  the  nose  was 
fine,  and  the  nostrils  were  delicate  and  arching; 
while  the  whole  face  was  the  handsomest  she  had 
ever  seen,  excepting  that  always  handsomest  of 
soldiers,  Captain  Van  Arden. 

A  vague  wonder  possessed  her,  why  it  was 
that  her  own  boy  friends  and  lovers  were  never 
so  brilliant,  so  stately  and  so  fine-featured  as  were 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  215 

the  few  strangers  she  had  seen.  Were  the  "gen- 
tiles" all  thus  fascinating  and  charming  in  every 
way?  Why  must  "Mormons"  be  always  plain  and 
uninteresting? 

"Do  you  think  you  could  help  me  off  these 
beastly  bushes?"  asked  the  young  man.  "They 
make  a  very  uncomfortable  resting  place." 

Ellen  hurriedly  sought  a  place  where  she 
dragged  away  a  few  loose  dried  sticks  and  other 
debris,  and  then  with  all  the  strength  she  could 
muster,  she  half  dragged,  half  assisted  the  stran- 
ger to  the  soft  earthy  couch  under  the  willow  and 
cottonwood  trees. 

The  light  of  the  afternoon  sun  fell  in  dancing 
glints  and  shadows  on  Ellen's  brown  tresses-  The 
flowers  on  her  hair  gave  her  the  look  of  a  wood- 
land sprite,  which  the  dun-colored  gown  she 
wore,  plain  of  skirt,  but  trimmed  with  ripples  and 
ruffles  of  cunning  device  about  the  arms  and 
shoulders,  only  increased.  The  flying  draperies 
caught  and  flecked  the  sun  and  shadows  of  the 
cottonwood  shade  above  them,  making  her  re- 
semble indeed  a  leaf-clothed  maid,  the  occasional 
sunbeams  deepening  her  eyes  to  their  richest 
shade  of  chestnut  brown. 

"My  name  is  Captain  Sherwood,  of  the  United 
States  army.  I  came  over  here  for  a  little  hunt- 
ing and  fishing,"  the  young  man  said  after  his 
removal  to  more  comfortable  quarters.  "I  hope 
I  have  not  frightened  you,  for  I  am  not  worth  the 


216       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

pain  I  fear  I  have  given  you.  Please  do  not  be 
afraid  of  me;  I  will  get  away  from  here  just  as 
soon  as  I  can  move,  and  shall  not  trouble  you 
again." 

"Oh,  I  guess  I  shall  get  over  my  fright.  I  am 
glad  I  could  be  of  a  little  service.  It  is  my  duty 
to  be  kind  to  everybody,  and  especially  to  a 
brother  officer  of  Captain  Van  Arden.  I  knew 
him  when  he  was  here  a  year  ago." 

"My  child,"  said  the  officer,  with  emphasis,  and 
speaking  in  a  serious  tone,  "you  have  saved  my 
life,  and  I  shall  never  cease  to  be  your  most  hum- 
ble and  grateful  friend,  no  matter  where  you  go, 
or  what  may  become  of  me." 

His  dark  eyes  looked  into  her  own  with  a  soft 
appeal  for  sympathy  and  tolerance  which  was  ir- 
resistible to  the  tender-hearted  girl. 

"Indeed  I  have  done  but  little;  I  have  only 
helped  you  to  recover  from  your  faint  from  loss 
of  blood." 

The  young  man  winced  at  the  simple,  honest 
explanation,  but  sought  again  to  impress  his  heart- 
felt gratitude  upon  the  charming  nurse  he  had  se- 
cured. 

"Perhaps  if  some  wandering  'Danite'  had  dis- 
covered me,  in  my  helpless  condition,  instead  of 
your  gentle  self,  I  should  now  indeed  have  no 
need  for  help  or  comfort  in  this  life." 

"Indeed,  sir,  you  mistake  my  people.  They 
are  not  murderers  nor  cut-throats.  I  have  heard 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  2i? 

that  the  'gentiles'  think  that  there  are  wicked  men 
among  us  banded  together  to  kill  people,  but  in  all 
my  life  I  never  saw  or  knew  of  such  a  band  or 
ever  saw  such  a  being  as  a  'Danite-'  " 

The  officer  saw  he  had  gone  a  little  too  far,  and 
so  he  turned  his  face  away  and  with  a  sigh,  he 
moved  toward  the  fast-setting  sun,  and  mur- 
mured, after  a  short  pause: 

"How  beautiful  the  effects  of  the  parting  sun- 
gleams  are  on  your  charming  wild  valley,  with  its 
glistening,  turquoise  lake,  the  snow-topped 
mountains,  cleft  and  seared  into  gorges  and  can- 
yon defiles,  their  uneven  sides  touched  here  and 
there  with  the  deep  green  of  the  oak  or  the  paler 
maple.  You  have  a  grand  old  castellated  bulwark 
for  the  setting  of  your  rural  home." 

Now,  all  this  was  astounding  to  simple  Ellen. 
To  hear  her  gray,  sage-covered,  barren  valley 
home  described  as  in  any  way  beautiful,  and  to 
know  that  such  lovely  descriptive  albeit  high- 
flown  and  theatrical  words  could  be  used  in  con- 
nection therewith,  was  a  veritable  revelation  to 
her. 

But  the  allusion  to  the  setting  sun  awakened 
other  thoughts  in  her  heart.  Hastily  rising,  she 
sought  her  sun-bonnet,  as  she  said : 

"I  must  go.  It  will  be  twilight  now  before  I 
reach  my  home.  I  shall  send  someone  down  to 
help  you  and  bring  you  to  where  you  can  be  taken 
care  of." 


218       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Evidently  this  was  not  at  all  to  the  young 
man's  mind,  but  repressing  outward  expression 
of  his  feelings,  he  simply  asked,  "Will  you  not 
go  back  to  the  place  of  my  accident,  and  see  if 
you  can  see  anything  of  my  horse?  I  don't  think 
he  would  wander  away  from  me,  he  is  too  much 
of  a  pet;  and  if  you  can  find  him,  I  am  sure  I 
shall  be  able  to  mount  and  get  back  to  my  quar- 
ters without  putting  you  or  your  people  to  any 
more  trouble  on  my  account." 

By  some  queer  mental  process,  Ellen  inferred 
that  the  soldier  had  good  cause  to  fear  the  min- 
istrations of  her  own  people,  and  yet  she  did  not 
know  how  to  answer  such  an  inference.  So  she 
simply  hurried  back  to  the  spot  indicated,  and 
there,  not  twenty  feet  from  where  she  had  found 
the  officer,  she  saw  the  white  horse,  quietly  bark- 
ing the  cottonwood  tree  to  which  he  was  care- 
fully tied. 

She  unfastened  him,  and  leading  him  onward, 
remarked : 

"I  guess  your  enemies,  whoever  they  are,  did 
not  intend  real  harm  to  you  for  they  have  left 
your  horse  securely  tied  not  far  from  where  you 
lay." 

"I  certainly  owe  them  my  heartfelt  gratitude 
for  that  much;  and  to  you  I  owe,  what  shall  I 
say?"  She  was  assisting  him  now  to  rise,  and 
her  face  was  close  to  his  own,  while  his  eyes 
shone  with  the  look  that  had  dazzled  her  once 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  219 

before.    "Shall  I  say  that  I  owe  to  you  not  only 
my  heartfelt  gratitude,  but  its  inmost  devotion?" 

Ellen  trembled,  with  a  vague  feeling  which  was 
half  repulsion,  half  enchantment.  She  had  never 
in  her  most  romantic  dreams  imagined  anything 
half  so  sudden,  nor  half  so  eloquent  as  she  felt 
this  warm,  openly  expressed  admiration  to  be. 
She  hardly  knew  whether  it  pleased  or  frightened 
her  most.  One  thing  was  sure,  she  was  so  anx- 
ious to  get  back  home  that  she  hardly  said  another 
word  to  her  companion.  As  he  stoopingly  bent 
over  his  horse  in  evident  weakness  and  raised  his 
cap  with  his  uninjured  hand,  he  said  in  a  low, 
thrilling  tone:  "This  beautiful  green  retreat  will 
be  to  me  for  the  rest  of  my  life  a  sweet,  solemn 
temple-  For  here  I  have  met  not  only  a  threat- 
ened and  averted  danger,  but  have  seen  and 
known  its  high  priestess  to  be  a  maiden  with  an 
angel's  face  and  a  heart  of  gold.  May  heaven 
guard  you,  my  sweet  friend,  till  we  meet  again." 

Ellen  gave  him  one  shy,  half-frightened  glance, 
and  then  with  her  heart  choking  her  throat  with 
violent  emotion,  she  sped  like  a  timid  hare  to  her 
home,  through  fast  deepening  twilight.  The  sol- 
dier, once  the  girl  was  out  of  sight,  coolly  straight- 
ened out  his  arm,  put  the  bandage  in  his  pocket, 
snapped  his  fingers  at  the  distant  mountain  peaks 
and  rode  away  whistling  a  French  love  ditty. 

At  the  door  Ellen  met  Aunt  Clara,  just  going 
out  with  a  bowl  of  gruel  to  a  neighbor's  sick 


220       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Child.  Aunt  Clara  noted  with  her  ever  observant 
eye  the  quickened  breathing,  the  air  of  indefinable 
excitement  about  the  girl,  even  in  the  gloaming 
twilight,  and  pausing  to  stop  Ellen  from  entering 
the  house,  she  asked  quietly: 

"What  is  the  matter,  dear?  You  pant  as  if  you 
were  excited,  and  your  eyes  shine  so  in  the  dark 
that  they  look  like  stars.  Have  you  been  fright- 
ened, and  where  have  you  been?" 

"Oh,  I've  just  been  running  a  little,  for  I  stayed 
down  the  river  too  long,  and  had  to  run  to  get 
home  before  dark.  No,  I  haven't  been  frightened, 
at  least  not  to  speak  of.  You  know,"  she  added, 
with  an  uneasy  laugh,  for  Ellen  had  not  learned 
yet  to  tell  a  direct  lie,  "that  girls  are  natural  cow- 
ards, Aunt  Clara,  and  are  frightened  at  their  own 
shadows-" 

"Well,  girls  should  always  be  careful,  and  es- 
pecially at  these  times.  Why,  Brother  Winthrop 
says  all  this  excitement  about  the  army  coming 
in  has  made  the  Indians  very  uneasy  and  uncer- 
tain, and  you  girls  have  no  business  away  from 
home,  especially  alone.  What  if  some  of  those 
wicked  soldiers  should  take  it  into  their  heads  to 
come  over  the  valley  snooping  around  here !  Let 
me  warn  you,  Ellie, — for  I  feel  the  spirit  of  it 
strongly  upon  me,  for  some  cause  or  other, — 
don't  you  ever  venture  away  from  this  house, 
either  night  or  day,  unless  you  have  safe  and  suffi- 
cient company." 


A  SOLDIER  IN  DISTRESS  221 

For  one  breathless  moment  Ellen  longed  to 
throw  herself  into  those  blessed,  kindly  arms  and 
sob  out  her  whole  confession.  But  Aunt  Clara 
turned  hastily,  and  said  as  she  started  away, 
"Some  day,  dear,  you  and  I  will  talk  more  about 
this  matter.  But  I  must  hurry  away  now  to  see 
Sister  Harris'  baby." 


XXI 
JOHN  VISITS  ELLEN 

SHE  days  came  and  went  after  this,  with 
pain,  pleasure,  work,  and  mingled  hopes 
and  fears.    Life  was  just  now  full  of  ex- 
citing plans,  forecasts,  and  prophecies. 
Dian  Winthrop  went  on  her  own   sensible   yet 
self-contained  way.    As  her  friend  Ellen  seemed 
able  to  do  without  her,  she  was  content  to  be  left 
alone.    She  worked  and  laughed  and  dressed  and 
thought  her  own,  serious,  deep  thoughts  about 
life  and  her  own  being  upon  the  earth,  untroubled 
by  fears,  and  full  of  the  common  trust  in  the  God 
of  her  fathers,  knowing  that  she  would  be  well 
taken  care  of  by  her  friends  and  family,  no  mat- 
ter what  might  happen. 

She  "kept  company"  in  an  eminently  sensible 
way  with  Charlie  Rose,  whenever  he  sought  her 
out.  While  congratulating  herself  on  the  invari- 
able frankness  with  which  she  showed  the  young 
man  that  good  as  he  might  be  he  was  not  her 
ideal,  yet  she  allowed  him  to  spend  all  his  spare 
means  in  taking  her  to  their  simple  picnics  and 
visits  with  which  the  young  people  whiled  away 
their  leisure  time  of  waiting. 
.  She  did  not  allow  the  least  attempt  at  a  flirtation 


JOHN  VISITS  ELLEN  223 

with  Tom  Allen.  She  had  not  enough  regard  for 
him  to  make  herself  agreeable  to  him.  But 
she  herself  was  such  a  fine,  handsome,  superior 
looking  and  acting  girl,  and  so  admired  by  every- 
body, that  Tom  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
once  in  awhile  of  taking  her  out  and  thereby  giv- 
ing her  a  chance  of  understanding  and  appreci- 
ating him  at  his  own  advanced  valuation. 

Poor  little  Ellie,  starved  for  her  friend's  con- 
fidence, shrinking  with  dread  of  what  the  future 
might  bring  her,  and  yet  longing  to  meet  and 
greet  that  danger,  was  half  the  time  full  of  an  un- 
natural gaiety,  half  the  time  moody  and  preter- 
naturally  grave  and  silent.  One  night,  when  she 
and  Aunt  Clara  sat  in  the  front  door  of  the  hut, 
watching  the  moon  rise  in  unequaled  splendor 
over  the  gap  in  Rock  Canyon,  they  heard  a  horse- 
man coming  up  the  street,  and  in  a  moment  he 
appeared  in  front  of  their  gate.  His  cheery  "whoa" 
to  his  animal  caused  Ellen  to  run  hastily  out,  ex- 
claiming, 

"Why,  it's  John  Stevens!  Oh  you  dear  old 
John,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you!"  and  as  John 
sprang  from  his  horse,  she  threw  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  as  if  he  were  her  own  dear  brother,  and 
thus  she  sobbed  out  her  joy  and  her  vague  fears 
on  his  friendly  shoulder. 

The  tall,  silent  man  allowed  her  to  cry  until 
she  was  calmed,  and  while  he  felt  every  throb  of 
her  tenderness  in  his  own  responsive  soul,  he  felt, 


224        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

too,  that  underneath  it  all,  there  was  something 
deeper  and  more  serious  than  he  could  at  present 
fathom.  He  left  that  to  a  future,  better  under- 
standing, however,  and  contented  himself  with 
gently  stroking  her  soft  brown  braids,  while  he 
chatted  with  Aunt  Clara  about  matters  of  interest 
to  both. 

Once  inside  the  house,  and  John's  supper  over, 
Ellen  seemed  a  very  spirit  of  mischievous  at- 
traction. She  fluttered  around  her  great,  big,  red- 
bearded  friend;  and  with  the  sweetest  smiles  and 
most  coaxing  fascination,  seemed  a  very  magnet 
of  charm.  John  did  not  try  to  resist  this  uncon- 
scious effort  of  Ellie's  to  be  winsome  and  loving 
as  he  sat  with  his  eyes  bent  gravely  upon  her, 
occasionally  answering  her  witty  sallies ;  inward- 
ly, however,  he  was  anxious  to  unravel  the  whole 
of  this  perplexing,  if  delightful,  mystery. 

Aunt  Clara  noted  all  these  things,  for  when  did 
she  ever  fail  to  see  all  there  was  to  be  seen  when 
she  was  present?  But  she  wisely  left  the  young 
people  to  arrange  their  own  affairs,  discreetly 
proceeding  with  her  knitting,  and  putting  in  a  re- 
mark now  and  then,  only  as  occasion  seemed  to 
require. 

Was  Ellen  in  love  with  him?  This  was  the 
question  which  forced  itself  upon  John's  mind, 
in  spite  of  his  modesty.  Or,  was  there  something 
else  which  caused  all  this  excitement? 


XXII 
IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN 

HE  question  with  which  John  Stevens 
troubled  himself  is  one  which  any  mod- 
est man  dislikes  to  put  to  himself.  If 
love  comes  in  answer  to  the  solicitation 
of  love,  the  question  is  rarely  asked;  but  if  love 
has  come  from  an  unexpected  source,  the  result 
is  an  effort  to  reciprocate  that  affection,  or  else 
a  vague  annoyance,  a  feeling  of  being  injured  in 
some  inexplicable  way,  which  will  intrude  upon 
the  consciousness. 

The  afternoon  after  his  arrival  John  spent  with 
a  hungry,  passionate  longing  at  his  heart  for  a 
welcoming  word  from  the  one  woman  he  had 
loved  so  faithfully  and  so  devotedly  for  years. 
As  Diantha  passed  out  of  the  house  on  her  way 
toward  the  river,  he  wondered  why  it  was  his 
heart  should  cling  so  tenaciously  to  her,  in  spite 
of  her  coldness  and  her  neglect. 

Why  could  not  he  love  sweet  Ellen  best  instead 
of  the  indifferent  Dian,  she  who  sometimes 
wounded  her  best  and  dearest,  if  it  happened  to 
meet  her  mind  to  do  so?  No  use  to  ask;  how- 
ever, he  knew  that  if  he  could  not  win  her  love, 
eternity  would  hold  a  regret  for  him,  for  this 
woman  had  become  necessary  to  his  happiness. 

15 


226       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

He  sat  under  the  cottonwood  tree  in  the  front 
yard  as  these  reflections  passed  through  his  mind, 
and  pulling  his  long  beard  with  some  impatience, 
he  looked  up  in  time  to  catch  the  laughing  eyes 
of  Ellen  Tyler  as  she  passed  one  of  the  front 
windows. 

"Why,  John,  you  look  as  if  you  saw  a  whole 
cavalcade  approaching  our  house  to  drive  us  into 
the  mountains.  What  on  earth  is  the  matter?" 

"Nothing  much,  Ellen;  come  out  and  let's  take 
a  walk." 

"All  right,  if  you  will  go  with  me  up  into  town, 
for  Sister  Winthrop  wants  some  things  from  the 
Tithing  Office." 

"Come  on,  then."  And  away  they  sauntered 
in  the  warm  sunshine,  John  determined  to  con- 
quer his  heart  by  the  mere  force  of  will,  and  El- 
len as  determined  to  grasp  this  straw  of  protec- 
tion and  comfort  which  seemed  held  out  to  her 
by  the  strong,  safe  hand  of  her  loved  friend. 

John  was  really  lover-like  in  his  manner  this 
afternoon,  and  poor,  perplexed  Ellen's  heart 
opened  to  the  warm  sunshine  of  that  sympathy 
like  a  half-withered,  thirsty  flower.  Little  by  little, 
she  confided  to  him  the  story  of  Tom  Allen's  un- 
fortunate dream,  and  she  felt  comforted  and 
strengthened  by  the  serious  and  kindly  way  in 
which  John  explained  to  her  the  irreverence 
manifested  by  Tom  in  thus  attempting  to  jest  up- 
on such  a  holy,  solemn  subject.  And  John  was 


IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN  227 

wise  enough  to  palliate  Tom's  error,  so  that  El- 
len was  left  with  a  peaceful,  quieted  heart,  which 
held  no  bitterness  for  Tom  and  very  little  of  anger 
against  Dian  for  the  unseemly  mirth  that  young 
lady  had  manifested.  How  good,  and  how  wise 
John  was!  What  a  splendid  soul  was  hid  be- 
neath his  cool  and  deliberate  manner!  Surely 
she  could  win  his  heart;  at  any  rate  she  was  go- 
ing to  try. 

"Do  the  soldiers  come  over  on  this  side  of  the 
valley  very  often?"  she  asked,  as  they  had  ex- 
hausted the  other  subject. 

"I  should  hope  not.  I  would  not  want  to  find 
any  of  them  prowling  around  here ;  it  might  be  the 
worse  for  them,  if  I  did,"  answered  John  in  a  sort 
of  low,  threatening  growl. 

"Why,  John,  you  would  not  object  to  their 
breathing  the  same  air  as  we  do,  would  you?" 

"It  depends.  I  don't  want  them  near  this  town, 
be  assured  of  that." 

A  dim  suspicion  that  the  young  officer  she  had 
met  so  often  of  late  was  right  in  his  surmise 
that  her  own  people  would  kill  him  at  sight  if 
they  found  him  near  their  towns,  made  her  ask 
another  question: 

"John,  if  you  should  happen  to  find  one  of  those 
soldiers  out  shooting  or  fishing  near  the  river, 
would  you  try  to  do  him  any  violence?" 

Something  in  her  tone  gave  him  a  vague  un- 
easy twinge.  He  looked  quietly  into  the  flushed 


228       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

face  and  bright  uplifted  eyes  for  a  moment,  and 
then  asked  instead  of  answering: 

"Ellen  dear,  have  you  ever  seen  one  of  those 
soldiers  on  this  side  of  the  river?" 

It  took  a  great  deal  of  courage  for  Ellen  to 
answer  that  question  truthfully;  yet  with  those 
keen,  kindly,  piercing  eyes  upon  her,  she  could 
but  tell  the  story  of  her  first  meeting  with 
Captain  Sherwood,  leaving  her  story  at  the  close 
of  that  long  interview  without  adding  anything 
as  to  further  meetings  and  conversations. 

She  was  very  glad  she  took  this  precaution,  for 
she  was  fairly  frightened  at  the  terrible  expres- 
sion of  wrath  which  overspread  the  features  of 
her  companion.  He  said  not  a  word  for  several 
minutes,  and  she  grew  seriously  alarmed  at  the 
anger  in  those  eyes,  always  bent  upon  her  in  such 
kindness,  as  she  wished  heartily  that  she  had  said 
nothing  whatever  about  the  matter.  At  last  she 
ventured  to  say: 

"What  is  it,  John;  are  you  angry  with  me?  I 
could  not  help  it." 

The  man  divined  at  once  that  he  had  startled 
the  girl,  and  perhaps  closed  her  lips  for  the  fu- 
ture; so  with  a  profound  effort,  he  stilled  the 
tempest  of  wrath  in  his  heart,  and  made  out  to 
laugh  a  little,  as  he  replied : 

"What  a  bear  I  must  be,  to  frighten  an  in- 
nocent child  like  you.  No,  my  dear  girl,  I  am 
not  nor  could  I  be  angry  with  you.  You  could 


IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN  229 

never  give  me  cause  for  anger.  I  might  be  hurt 
or  sorry  about  you,  but  you  would  never  make 
me  angry." 

He  paused  again,  as  if  to  collect  himself  still 
further,  and  then  said: 

"Tell  me  about  it  again,  Ellen  dear." 

Thus  quieted,  Ellen  began  at  the  beginning. 

"Did  he  say  that  the  'Mormons'  had  stabbed 
him?"  asked  John. 

Ellen  had  to  think  a  moment,  and  then  an- 
swered: "No,  I  don't  think  he  mentioned  'Mor- 
mons,' but  of  course,  I  thought  he  meant  'Mor- 
mons.' " 

As  the  story  proceeded,  John  stopped  her  at 
every  point,  and  insisted  on  having  the  most  ex- 
plicit explanations.  When  the  story  was  again 
completed,  John  turned  the  keen,  kindly  eyes  on 
her  pleading  face  and  said: 

"You  were  a  brave,  true  girl  to  defend  your 
people  against  the  slanders  about  the  'Danites;' 
and  I  don't  think  you  have  it  in  your  power  to 
run  away  from  a  sick  kitten,  much  less  an  injured 
man,  if  you  thought  you  could  help  him.  So 
don't  blame  yourself  one  bit,  it  was  all  right  so  far 
as  you  were  concerned.  But  as  for  that  devil  in 
human  form,  let  me  show  you  how  improbable 
his  whole  story  was.  For  instance,  do  you  think 
a  man  like  that  would  ride  around  here  to  hunt 
and  fish?  He  has  seen  some  girl  down  here" — El- 
len was  glad  she  did  not  say  anything  about  the 


230       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

bathing  incident,  "and  has  come  over  here  hunt- 
ing our  girls  to  ruin  and  destroy  them.  And  do 
you  think  he  would  come  without  a  pistol?  And 
if  he  had  one,  would  he  let  someone  get  near 
enough  to  stab  him?  And  if  a  man  wanted  to  kill 
him  would  he  stop  short  with  a  cut  on  the  arm? 
And  then,  would  such  a  man  tie  up  the  soldier's 
horse,  safely  to  a  tree,  so  that  he  could  get  up 
and  run  away  whenever  he  wanted  to?  Bosh, 
it  was  a  trick  which  no  one  but  a  trusting,  un- 
suspecting woman  would  have  been  ready  to  ac- 
cept as  a  fact.  But  there,  my  dear,  you  are  not  to 
blame  at  all;  it  is  all  over  now,  thank  God,  and 
I  am  very  sure  you  will  not  go  out  alone  again, 
especially  near  the  river,  or  far  away  from  home 
in  any  direction." 

"Why,  John,  all  our  folks  go  down  to  the  river 
at  times;  did  not  you  see  Dian  starting  for  a 
walk  down  there  just  as  we  were  leaving  the 
house  to  come  up  here?" 

Again  that  white,  silent  wrath  spread  over  the 
face  of  her  companion,  and  added  to  it  was  a 
flaming  redness  which  seemed  to  leap  into  his 
eyes  instead  of  his  cheeks.  The  effect  of  her 
words  frightened  the  girl  at  his  side.  Truly  he 
had  seen  Dian  start  out  that  way ;  he  remembered 
it  all  very  clearly  now,  but  in  his  proud  endeavor 
to  drive  her  out  of  his  heart,  he  had  also  driven 
her  out  of  his  mind. 

"I  dare  say,  John  dear,  she  is  expecting  to  meet 


IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN  231 

Tom  Allen  or  Charlie  Rose  down  by  the  river, 
for  you  know  Dian  has  a  way  of  always  having  a 
string  of  beaus  running  after  her." 

This  was  said  to  comfort  John,  and  to  assist 
in  driving  from  his  face  that  awful  anger  whose 
white  silence  so  terrified  her. 

After  a  pause  John  asked  her: 

"Do  you  want  to  go  with  me  down  to  the  river 
and  show  me  where  it  is  that  you  met  this  man? 
It  is  barely  possible  that  Dian  may  have  gone 
in  the  same  direction-" 

They  were  returning  from  town  now,  and  El- 
len answered: 

"Of  course  she  has,  for  the  place  where  I  met 
him  is  just  where  Dian  and  I  cleared  away  the 
underbrush  purposely  for  a  little  shady  retreat 
for  the  both  of  us,  and  until  we  were  mad  at  each 
other  a  few  weeks  ago,  we  never  went  there  alone, 
and  rarely  missed  a  day  but  washdays  and  Sun- 
days of  going  there  to  talk  and  rest.  Of  course, 
I  will  go  with  you,  only  let  us  go  by  the  house,  so 
I  can  leave  these  things  there  for  Aunt  Clara." 

There  was  very  little  said  on  that  riverward 
walk.  Ellen  was  thinking  sadly  of  the  many 
times  she  had  met  and  talked  with  the  young 
stranger,  of  which  she  dared  not  speak  to  her 
companion,  and  of  how  foolish  she  had  been  to 
run  such  risks.  She  was  thinking,  too,  of  Dian 
being  down  there,  and  wondering  with  a  vague 
jealousy  if  Dian  had  also  been  there  when  she 


232       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

knew  it  not,  and  if  she  too  was  courting  the 
admiration  of  the  officer.  But  she  put  this  away 
in  a  moment,  for  she  would  not  do  Dian  the  in- 
justice to  suppose  that  with  all  her  proud  and 
self-centered  spirit,  she  could  deliberately  do  such 
a  criminal,  deceitful  thing  as  that  would  be.  She 
forgot  to  designate  her  own  conduct  as  severely 
as  she  was  doing  the  faintly  supposed  conduct 
of  her  friend.  But,  then,  Dian  was  such  an  emi- 
nently proper  young  woman  that  no  one  ever 
suspected,  much  less  accused  her  of  doing  any- 
thing unladylike  or  at  all  imprudent. 

As  for  poor  John  Stevens,  he  had  been  laboring 
for  years,  ever  since  he  had  been  a  man,  with  a 
man's  understanding  of  life  and  its  responsibili- 
ties, for  the  acquisition  of  the  severe  self-control 
necessary  to  subdue  his  passionate  nature.  He 
had  fought  such  a  gallant  fight  against  his  love 
for  Diantha  Winthrop,  that  no  one,  not  even 
Dian  herself,  suspected  the  profound  emotions 
which  had  been  so  hard  for  him  to  control.  He 
had  learned  to  control  his  temper,  that  fierce, 
vicious  thing,  which  his  dead  sainted  mother  had 
trained  him  from  early  youth  to  hold  in  check; 
about  which  he  had  often  prayed,  aye,  and  even 
fasted,  that  it  might  never  rise  beyond  his  power 
of  government;  but  now,  indeed,  when  he  felt 
both  love  and  anger  flooding  his  soul  in  such  an 
overwhelming  tide,  he  was  powerless  to  hold  both 
flood  tides  in  check.  His  hands  kept  clinching 


IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN  233 

and  twisting  in  unavailing  impotence,  and  his 
throat  was  so  dry  and  parched  that  he  could 
not  have  uttered  a  word.  His  whole  being  was 
for  the  time  a  darkened  void,  where  nought  but 
a  fearful  apprehension  and  hot  anger  could  pene- 
trate his  consciousness. 

He  walked  beside  his  companion  in  silence, 
which  was  far  worse  than  another  man's  rage. 

"Why,  John,  I  think  I  am  more  frightened 
of  you  than  I  was  of  the  soldier,"  said  Ellen  at 
last.  The  silence  had  become  too  oppressive  for 
her-  "I  can't  imagine  what  ails  you  today.  I 
thought  you  were  the  gentlest  and  quietest  of 
men." 

John  stopped  short  in  their  walk,  looked  up  a 
moment  into  the  burning  sky  above  him,  stroked 
his  beard  with  a  slow  motion,  and  with  a  little 
preparatory  cough  to  clear  away  the  dryness  in 
his  throat,  he  said  in  his  drawling  voice: 

"Oh,  don't  be  afraid;  I  would  not  injure  even 
a  soldier,  if  it  were  not  wise  or  right  to  do  so, 
my  girl.  I  feel  a  little  angry,  that  is  all,  that  any 
one  should  seek  to  entangle  our  girls  and  draw 
them  away  from  the  safety  and  purity  of  their 
own  innocent  happy  lives.  That  is  all.  Don't 
be  afraid ;  I  dare  say  both  you  and  I  are  imagin- 
ing a  lot  of  things  which  will  never  happen.  You 
will  soon  forget  all  about  this  handsome  devil, 
while  we  will  find  Diantha  down  there  quietly 
talking  with  Tom  or  Charlie  Rose,  or  some  other 


234       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

nice  fellow,  and  she  will  be  angry  to  see  us  come 
spying  on  her  love  affairs." 

Yet,  even  as  he  spoke,  his  keen  eyes  detected 
away  in  the  distant  trees,  where  the  brush  had 
been  cut  away  and  the  eyes  could  travel  some 
distance  in  the  green  embrasure,  a  glint  of  a 
white  dress,  and  he  was  sure  that  the  coat  be- 
side the  dress  was  a  blue  one,  not  the  dark  home- 
spun he  knew  would  be  worn  by  his  own  people. 

Both  John  and  Ellen  quieted  every  evidence 
of  their  approach,  and  Ellen  fell  behind  her  com- 
panion, with  a  dreadful  shrinking  fear  at  her 
heart,  mixed  even  then  with  a  bit  of  jealousy  of 
her  friend's  apparent  free  understanding  with  her 
own  cavalier. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  growled  a  low, 
husky  voice  behind  the  two,  who  were  seated  on  a 
fallen  tree,  apparently  absorbed  in  a  book. 

Diantha  Winthrop  looked  up,  startled,  yet  with 
full  control  of  herself. 

"Oh,  John,  this  is  Captain  Sherwood,  of  the 
United  States  army,  you  know,  and  he  is  read- 
ing Shakespeare  to  me,  for  you  know  how  fond 
of  poetry  I  am." 

"How  did  you  come  here?"  again  growled  the 
husky  voice,  unheeding  the  brave,  frank  explan- 
ation so  coolly  offered  him. 

The  young  officer  threw  back  his  head,  partly 
because  he  was  encouraged  by  the  apparent  lack 
of  fear  on  the  part  of  his  companion,  and  also  be- 


IF  YOU  LOVE  ME,  JOHN  235 

cause  of  the  fact  that  no  matter  if  possessed  of 
every  fault  and  sin  in  the  decalogue,  Captain 
Sherwood  was  no  coward. 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,  even  if  your  question 
is  not  a  very  civil  one,  I  will  give  you  a  civil  an- 
swer. I  came  here,  as  I  usually  go  everywhere, 
on  the  back  of  my  trusty  horse.  I  suppose  that 
even  a  soldier  is  permitted  to  go  where  he  pleas- 
es in  this  free  and  semi-civilized  domain  belong- 
ing to  Uncle  Sam.  Have  you  any  objections  to 
my  going  wherever  I  please?" 

John  folded  his  arms  and  waited  quietly  for 
more  explanations. 

The  soldier  also  waited  a  moment,  and  then, 
constrained  to  say  something  more,  in  spite  of 
himself,  he  added: 

"This  young  lady  has  condescended  to  let  me 
read  to  her  some  of  the  eloquent  classics  found 
in  our  immortal  Shakespeare.  But  perhaps  you 
know  nothing  of  poetry,  and  Shakespeare's  name 
may  not  even  have  a  meaning  for  you." 

The  insolence  of  this  reply  did  not  provoke  the 
other  to  outward  anger,  although  it  certainly  had 
its  effect.  Just  at  this  moment  Ellen  came  out 
from  her  retreat,  and  as  the  soldier  caught  sight 
of  her  he  swept  off  his  cap  in  a  magnificent  bow, 
and  with  a  fine  and  dignified  manner,  the  man- 
ner of  a  southern  gentleman  to  a  woman  he 
wishes  to  please,  he  said  softly: 

"It  is  a  rare  pleasure  to  see  Miss  Tyler."    Then 


236       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

as  he  saw  that  the  girl's  face  was  white  with  fear, 
and  her  hands  clasped  in  evident  pain,  he  bowed 
and  added :  "Do  not  be  alarmed,  madam ;  I  am  too 
insignificant  for  your  friend  to  seek  to  harm  me, 
and  as  for  him,  it  is  sufficient  to  know  that  he  is 
your  friend ;  he  and  his  are  sacred  to  me  from  this 
moment;  I  would  not  injure  him  or  them  even  if 
my  life  pays  the  penalty." 

There  was  a  grandiosity  about  this  speech 
which  struck  upon  Dian's  nerves  a  little  unpleas- 
antly, but  to  Ellen  the  tone  and  manner  seemed 
the  most  gentlemanly  and  elegant  she  had  ever 
witnessed;  while  his  evident  emotion  at  seeing 
her  flattered  her  vain  soul  with  infinite  sweetness. 

All  this  while  John  had  stood  watching  every- 
thing and  saying  nothing.  At  last  Dian  ap- 
proached him,  and  laying  her  hand  fearlessly  up- 
on his  arm,  she  said  in  a  slightly  shaken  voice,  al- 
though still  with  perfect  self-control : 

"I  hope,  John,  that  you  will  remember  that  this 
gentleman  has  done  nothing  offensive,  and  that 
it  was  my  fault  that  he  remained  here  to  read  to 
me.  You  will  allow  him  to  return  to  his  own  place 
without  the  least  molestation  from  anyone.  For 
the  rest,  I  alone  am  to  be  held  responsible." 

John  groaned  in  spite  of  himself.  Both  the  girls, 
like  the  women  they  were,  would  not  cast  blame 
upon  the  sneaking  man,  thus  taking  away  his  only 
weapon  of  revenge.  That  groan  startled  Dian,  and 
made  Ellen  tremble  like  a  broken  reed  in  the 


237 


wind,  and  even  the  soldier's  face  paled  a  little  at 
its  intensity.  But  Dian  was  equal  to  the  occasion ; 
her  fine  common  sense  stood  her  in  good  stead. 
This  was  no  time  to  be  romantic;  good  practical 
sense  and  reason  was  what  they  all  needed  now. 
She  caught  hold  of  his  arm  with  her  own  small 
but  firm  hand  and  said  calmly  and  distinctly : 

"Look  here,  John  Stevens,  there's  no  sense  in 
your  getting  angry.  You  know  well  enough  that 
President  Young  has  said  repeatedly  that  there 
should  be  no  blood  spilt  in  these  times,  and  you 
know,  too,  that  this  gentleman  is  not  to  blame  if  a 
girl  chooses  to  accept  his  invitation  to  spend  an 
hour  in  his  company.  Just  calm  yourself,  for 
neither  Ellen  nor  I  have  committed  any  sin,  and 
we  are  old  enough  to  have  some  rights  of  our 
own.  And  I  am  not  going  to  be  dictated  to  by 
any  creature  on  this  earth,  man  or  woman !  What- 
ever you  want  to  say  to  me  must  not  be  said  in 
anger." 

John  looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  woman  beside 
him,  and  with  such  a  look !  He  was  muttering  un- 
der his  breath:  "Oh,  God  help  me!"  And  the 
anguish  and  love  and  anger  and  struggle  for  self- 
control  which  were  shown  in  that  look  shook  even 
Dian's  heart  with  a  vague  trembling  which  she 
could  not  understand. 

"Dian,  you  take  Ellen  and  go  home.  I  shall  do 
nothing  rash,  God  help  me,  and  you  need  have  no 


238       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

fear;  but  I  beg  you  to  go  quietly  home,  and  take 
good  care  of  Ellen." 

Moved  by  some  inexplicable  impulse,  Dian  drew 
herself  close  to  him  'and  in  a  low  whisper  she 
said: 

"Don't  be  harsh,  John,"  and  then  lower  still,  "if 
you  love  me,  John/' 


D 


XXIII 
DOWN  BY  THE  RIVERSIDE 

IANTHA  turned  away,  and  putting  her 
arm  around  her  friend,  they  sped 
through  the  late  afternoon  sunshine  to 
their  home  with  flying  feet,  silent 
tongues  and  an  unspoken  prayer  in  both  hearts  for 
John  Stevens  that  he  might  not  be  overcome. 

As  for  John,  he  strode  up  to  the  soldier,  as  soon 
as  the  girls  were  out  of  hearing,  and  with  the  low 
roar  of  an  angry  lion,  he  growled : 

"What  is  to  hinder  my  choking  the  dastard  life 
out  of  your  lustful  body?"  As  he  spoke,  quick  as 
a  flash,  he  had  pinioned  the  man's  arms,  and  with 
the  grip  of  an  infuriated  animal,  he  had  his  hands 
around  the  white,  gentlemanly  throat,  and  for  a 
moment  his  passion  so  blinded  him  that  he  knew 
nothing,  saw  nothing,  but  a  huge,  black  cloud 
which  overspread  all  nature  and  his  own  heart. 

This  murderous  impulse  passed,  and  with  an- 
other awful  groan,  he  released  his  hold,  and  with 
a  fling,  threw  the  stranger  away  from  him,  and 
quickly  turning  his  back,  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands,  while  one  hot,  silent  tear  scalded  his  re- 
pentant eyes. 

The  soldier,  after  a  few  moments  of  insensi- 


240 


bility,  came  to  himself,  and  with  a  profound  ef- 
fort, he  dragged  himself  up,  and  shaking  his  body 
together,  he  stood  upon  his  feet,  and  said,  quietly 
and  sneeringly,  though  somewhat  hoarsely: 

"You  asked  me  a  very  queer  question,  my  good 
fellow,  and  if  I  had  not  more  regard  for  law  and 
decency  than  you  seem  to  have,  I  would  answer  it 
like  this" — with  the  words,  John  felt  the  muzzle 
of  a  revolver  at  his  ear.  Again,  with  the  flash  of 
a  tiger,  John  seized  the  other's  arm,  twisted  the 
pistol  out  of  his  hand,  and  with  a  quick,  backward 
spring,  he  had  thrown  the  weapon  into  the  brawl- 
ing river  beside  them,  while  with  a  deep  sneer  in 
his  voice,  he  answered : 

"Do  you  think,  you  soldiers,  that  you  are  out 
here  with  nothing  but  squaws  to  oppose  you?  Men 
who  have  wives  and  homes  to  protect  are  not 
afraid  of  popguns."  And  then,  as  if  mastered  anew 
with  the  terrible  emotions  surging  in  his  breast, 
John  asked,  slowly :  "What  is  to  hinder  my  send- 
ing your  soul  to  hell,  where  it  rightfully  belongs?" 

This  time  the  soldier  looked  into  the  hot,  angry 
eyes  close  to  his  own,  and  perhaps  his  own  bra- 
very had  some  effect  in  calming  John,  for  after  a 
few  minutes,  the  soldier  folded  his  own  arms,  and 
with  a  light  touch  indicating  the  epaulets  upon 
his  shoulders,  he  said,  almost  airily: 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  that  even  you  have  some  re- 
spect for  this  Government  of  ours.  And  perhaps, 
too,  your  wholesome  fear  of  displeasing  the  no- 


DOWN  BY  THE  RIVERSIDE         241 

torious  Brigham  would  hinder  you  from  disgrac- 
ing yourself." 

John  said  nothing,  and  the  other  quietly  went 
to  the  tree  where  his  horse  was  fastened,  and  un- 
tying and  mounting  his  steed,  said  lightly: 

"Have  you  any  messages  to  send  to  our  fort? 
If  so,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  carry  them." 

"Yes,  you  may  tell  your  commander-in-chief 
that  if  he  wishes  to  keep  the  heads  of  his  men  on 
their  shoulders,  he  would  do  well  to  keep  them 
away  from  our  towns.  We  will  defend  our  homes 
and  our  virtue  with  our  lives." 

The  soldier  was  now  on  his  horse,  and  compar- 
atively safe,  so  he  ventured  to  reply  tauntingly : 

"Ah,  my  dear  fellow,  don't  trouble  yourself ;  the 
women  will  hunt  us  up-  I  know  the  dear  crea- 
tures better  than  you  do.  You  are  very  unsophis- 
ticated, depend  upon  it.  We  shall  soon  have  hard 
work  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  them.  Ta,  ta!" 
And  before  John  could  move,  he  had  dashed  away 
in  the  trees,  and  was  soon  out  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing. 

John  Stevens  was  left  behind  with  all  the  ag- 
onized load  of  fear  and  dread  which  swept  over 
him  like  a  mountain  cloud-burst.  He  leaned 
against  a  tree  and  with  arms  folded  across  his 
breast  and  head  dropped,  he  heaved  many  a  sigh 
and  shed  some  scalding  tears.  The  thing  he  had 
most  dreaded  in  the  onslaught  upon  his  people 
had  come  to  pass.  And  to  think  that  the  two 


242       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

women  he  loved  best  upon  the  earth  should  be  in 
the  greatest  danger  from  this  scourge.  Death  for 
the  men;  hunger,  cold,  war,  pain,  all  these  were 
slight  things  compared  with  the  danger  which 
had  been  ever  present.  The  temptation  which 
would  assail  the  youth  of  both  sexes,  but  more 
particularly  the  young  women,  to  forsake  the  sim- 
ple, honest  lives  of  their  people,  and  to  become 
involved  in  the  sins  and  corruptions  of  the  outside 
world;  this  had  been  his  constant  dread.  Was 
this  not  Zion?  Was  God  not  coming  from  His 
hiding  place  to  keep  Babylon  from  our  midst? 
With  all  the  strength  of  his  soul  he  loved  chastity 
and  purity.  He  had,  at  what  cost  no  one  but  a 
strong  man  may  tell,  kept  his  own  nature  as  sweet 
and  pure  as  that  of  any  woman,  and  he  knew  that 
in  strictest  chastity  only  there  was  safety  and 
peace  for  either  man  or  woman  in  this  life  or  the 
life  to  come.  Why  was  he  so  sensitive  to  all  these 
impressions  and  fears?  Why  could  he  not  be  like 
Tom  Allen,  careless  and  unthinking  as  to  past, 
present  and  future,  unless  it  affected  his  own 
pleasure?  But  he  knew  he  could  not.  Gifted  with 
a  peculiarly  sensitive  and  keenly  perceptive  na- 
ture, he  saw  far  beyond  the  present  action ;  he  saw 
the  end  to  which  such  action  tended,  in  a  measure, 
and  he  suffered  with  the  intensity  of  such  a  soul, 
when  he  or  any  he  loved  turned  aside  from  the 
narrow,  straight  path  of  chastity  and  right. 

After  hours  of  silent  suffering  and  struggle,  he 


DOWN  BY  THE  RIVERSIDE         243 

arose  to  find  the  stars  shining  above  his  head  in  a 
shimmering  peace,  and  with  a  heavy,  but  quieted 
heart,  he  made  his  way  home  to  the  village  be- 
yond. He  resolved  that  he  would  seek  Bishop 
Winthrop  the  next  day,  and  perhaps  even  go  to 
President  Young  for  some  counsel  in  this  terrible 
situation. 

The  bishop  was  much  moved  and  excited 
over  the  events  which  had  involved  his  own 
sister,  as  well  as  the  step-daughter  of  his  friend, 
Clara  Tyler.  The  bishop  suggested  at  once  that 
they  should  go  to  see  President  Young,  and  lay 
the  whole  affair  before  him  for  counsel.  They 
found  President  Young  full  of  business  cares  and 
anxieties  concerning  the  fate  of  his  people,  but 
when  the  two  men  entered,  the  President  asked 
them  to  go  with  him  to  his  inner  room,  and  they 
could  then  present  their  business  before  him- 

John  Stevens  told  the  whole  story,  not  adding 
one  detail,  nor  seeking  in  the  least  to  exaggerate 
the  danger  or  the  wrong  attempted.  But  his  brief, 
quiet  statement  did  more  to  lay  the  true  state  of 
the  case  before  the  President  than  a  torrent  of  lan- 
guage could  have  conveyed.  Bishop  Winthrop 
was  very  much  wrought  up,  and  begged  the 
President  to  take  steps  to  prevent  any  such  meet- 
ings in  the  future.  He  was  for  threatening  to  kill 
any  soldier  who  was  found  outside  of  his  own 
barracks. 

The  President  listened  to  the  wild  talk  and 


244       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

plans  of  his  excited  companion  as  he  had  to  the 
quieter,  yet  intenser  recital  of  John  Stevens.  After 
each  had  said  all  he  cared  to  say  on  the  matter,  the 
President,  who  had  been  twirling  his  thumbs,  as 
was  his  custom  when  in  deep  thought,  turned  his 
piercing  eyes  upon  the  two  men  so  anxiously  re- 
garding him,  and  said  slowly : 

"It's  no  use,  brethren,  to  try  to  force  people  to 
do  right.  You  can't  keep  people  virtuous  by  shut- 
ting them  up  in  prisons.  The  only  way  that  I 
know  of  to  get  men  or  women  to  walk  in  the  path 
of  virtue  and  righteousness,  is  to  teach  them  cor- 
rect principles,  and  then  let  each  one  govern  him- 
self. If  our  daughters  want  to  do  wrong,  if  they 
can't  find  any  of  our  boys  who  will  help  them,  they 
will  find  plenty  of  men  in  the  world  ready  to  ruin 
them.  After  such  girls  have  learned  their  lessons 
they  will  be  glad  to  creep  back  to  father's  hearth- 
stone, and  to  sit  under  the  shelter  they  once  de- 
spised. Teach  all  to  do  right  and  to  live  their  re- 
ligion, and  give  them  their  agency.  Let  parents 
live  their  religion  and  go  quietly  along,  and  some 
day  their  children  will  all  come  back  to  them." 

This  was  hard  counsel  for  these  two  men  to  fol- 
low ;  they  were  so  anxious,  so  full  of  loving  solici- 
tude for  the  two  beautiful  girls  in  question.  After 
a  moment  the  President  looked  searchingly  at 
John  Stevens,  and  said  inquiringly: 

"Brother  Stevens,  why  don't  you  court  one  of 
those  girls  and  marry  her  yourself?  The  best  way 


DOWN  BY  THE  RIVERSIDE         245 

to  drive  out  evil  is  by  introducing  good  in  its 
place.  Women  and  men  both  desire  to  love  and 
be  loved;  and  I  sometimes  think  our  Elders  will 
be  held  responsible  for  the  loss  of  our  girls,  if  they 
make  no  effort  to  give  them  a  love  worthy  and 
pure." 

The  conference  was  ended,  and  John  felt  the 
whole  burden  had  been  flung  back  on  his  shoul- 
ders. Well,  he  was  strong  and  willing;  he  was 
no  coward,  either.  But  how  could  he  do  the  im- 
possible? 


XXIV 
ELLIE'S  SECOND  WARNING 

|  HE  two  girls  avoided  John  all  the  next 
day,  for  with  feminine  instinct  they  di- 
vined their  case  would  come    up    for 
grave  consideration,  and  neither  cared  to 
be  questioned  or  chastised. 

When  this  startling  incident  came  to  the  ears 
of  Aunt  Clara  Tyler,  she  buckled  on  her  aggres- 
sive armor  of  righteousness,  but  like  the  tactful 
soul  she  was,  she  drew  over  her  steel  coat  the  soft 
velvet  robe  of  tender  sympathy  and  bided  her 
time. 

Two  nights  after  Dian's  encounter,  the  girls 
were  out  at  a  neighboring  party.  Returning  some- 
what late,  Aunt  Clara's  watchful  ears  heard  them 
call  out  their  merry  good-nights  to  their  com- 
panions, and  the  psychological  moment  was  upon 
them. 

The  girls  found  her  busy  at  their  own  wagon- 
box  bedroom,  and  they  were  glad  for  a  pair  of 
sympathetic  ears  in  which  to  pour  out  the  story 
of  "what  he  said"  and  "she  said"  with  the  eve- 
ning's trivial  happenings,  all  of  such  moment  to 
young,  fresh  hearts. 


ELLIE'S  SECOND  WARNING         247 

"How  good  it  is  to  get  a  word  with  you, 
Auntie,"  cooed  Ellen,  "you  are  off  so  much  with 
the  sick  that  I  don't  get  a  chance  to  hug  you  once 
a  week." 

Joining  in  their  merry  chatter,  the  two  girls  sit- 
ting cross-legged  on  their  narrow  bed,  their 
mentor  sat  on  the  stool  at  the  front  end  of  the 
box,  and  gently  led  them  into  deep  conversational 
waters. 

"These  brilliant  men  of  the  world  do  know  how 
to  say  pretty  things,  don't  they?"  said  Ellen,  after 
Dian  had  related  the  river  inciderit,  in  her  own 
candid  fashion. 

"And  he  never  said  a  rude  word  or  did  an  of- 
fensive thing,"  finished  Dian. 

"Good  manners,  my  dear,  are  only  the  real  or 
the  assumed  expression  of  a  truly  unselfish  soul. 
Tact  is  like  charity — it  sometimes  covers  a  multi- 
tude of  sins." 

Ellen  sat  silent  while  this  talk  went  on;  Aunt 
Clara  noted  it  and  drew  her  own  shrewd  conclu- 
sions. 

"Well,  why  must  this  sweet  and  gentle  courtesy 
belong  only  to  men  who  are  not  good,  Aunt 
Clara?"  continued  Dian. 

"It  mustn't,  and  yet  it  too  often  does.  Pioneer 
life  in  every  country  leaves  very  little  time  for 
young  men  especially  to  cultivate  the  amenities  of 
life.  Aren't  our  leaders  courteous,  and  can  you 
find  lovelier  ladies  than  Sister  Eliza  R.  Snow  and 


248       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Zina  D.  Young?  Our  girls  are  as  crude  in  much 
of  their  behavior  as  are  our  boys.  First  the  mar- 
ble must  be  hewn  out,  then  comes  the  polish." 

"I  love  the  polish,"  murmured  Ellen.  And  Dian 
added  frankly : 

"So  do  I !    The  rocks  in  the  hillside  are  ugly !" 

"Not  ugly — their  rough  beauty  appeals  to  an 
educated  mind.  And  polish  is  so  deceptive.  You 
could  enamel  any  cheap  and  poor  surface,  but  heat 
or  power  would  crush  the  false  substance  into 
powder.  Ah  no,  my  dear  motherless  girls,  it  is 
my  duty  to  warn  you !  I  see  what  your  youthful 
eyes  could  not  perceive.  The  allurements  of  bad 
men  and  corrupt  worldliness,  have  ever  been  and 
ever  will  be  present  with  us  in  this  world.  'Take 
away  the  devil's  fascination,  and  you  would  cut  off 
his  right  arm  at  the  shoulder,'  is  an  old  proverb. 
The  only  safety  for  youth  and  inexperience  is  to 
take  the  counsel  of  their  parents  and  guardians. 
I  am  a  widow,  and  earn  my  living  by  nursing  the 
sick.  So  I  am  obliged  to  leave  you  girls  to  watch 
yourselves  much  of  the  time." 

"But  taking  counsel  always  means  to  do  the 
thing  you  don't  want  to  do,"  pouted  Dian,  "and 
to  leave  undone  the  things  you  would  like  to  do." 

"That  pretty  nearly  sums  up  life's  best  disci- 
pline. And  now  let  me  warn  you,  my  dear,  pre- 
cious girls,  let  that  soldier  alone,  and  every  other 
man  whose  life  and  character  is  unknown  to  your 
guardians;  have  fun,  enjoy  yourselves,  but  don't 


ELLIE'S  SECOND  WARNING         249 

go  outside  your  own  safe  circle  for  pleasure  or  for 
peace." 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  grumbled  Diantha.  But  Aunt 
Clara  knew  that  the  temporary  resistance  of  Di- 
antha's  frank  nature  would  yield  in  time,  and  that 
above  all,  she  could  never  quite  bring  herself  to 
disobey  any  given  counsel.  That  was  the  rock 
upon  which  the  girl's  character  was  builded.  As 
for  Ellen: 

"Ellie,"  said  her  aunt,  solemnly,  "let  me  warn 
you  and  forewarn  you  against  any  evil  temptation 
such  as  has  just  assailed  Diantha.  I'm  sure  I 
don't  know  how  you  would  come  out  from  such  a 
test,  my  dear,  for  you  do  love  admiration  so  well." 

"Of  course  Diantha's  the  perfect  one,"  replied 
Ellen,  sharply;  "I  am  never  quite  safe  or  quite 
right,"  but  she  was  very  glad  Dian  had  kept  her 
secret.  For  there  was  surely  no  need  of  Aunt 
Clara  knowing  all  that! 

Alack!  The  loyalty  of  youth  to  youth  some- 
times works  them  grave  disaster.  If  Diantha  had 
only  been  a  little  less  loyal,  Aunt  Clara  would 
have  been  set  upon  the  watch  tower ;  for  she,  with 
her  riper  years,  knew  the  weakness  as  well  as  the 
charm  of  her  pretty  niece  as  inexperienced  Dian 
could  not  then  know.  But  both  girls  had  now 
been  rightly  taught  and  cautioned,  and  so  the 
elder  woman  kissed  them  good-night  and  left 
them  to  the  deep  slumber  of  youth  and  health- 


XXV 
"DO  YOU  CARE  FOR  JOHN  STEVENS?" 


EVERAL  evenings  later,  at  supper,  Tom 
Allen  remarked  that  the  Snows  were 
coming  over  to  spend  the  evening,  and 
he  wondered  if  they  could  have  some 
games  in  the  front  yard,  as  it  was  a  bright,  moon- 
light night.  Both  Diantha  and  Ellen  were  wait- 
ing upon  the  table,  and  no  one  for  the  moment 
seemed  anxious  to  answer  Tom's  remark.  Sister 
Winthrop,  as  well  as  Aunt  Clara,  had  evidently 
heard  something  of  recent  events,  and  both  were 
very  serious  and  quiet.  But  the  others  of  this 
large  and  oddly  assorted  family  assemblage  had 
heard  nothing,  and  accordingly  the  idea  of  having 
some  games  to  help  pass  away  the  brief  summer 
evening  with  plenty  of  music  of  concertina  and 
accordion  was  received  with  general  favor. 

It  was  a  little  puzzling  to  Diantha  to  see  the 
lover-like  attention  of  John  Stevens  to  her  friend 
Ellen  that  evening.  They  sat  together,  they 
chose  each  other  for  every  game,  they  talked 
together  in  the  most  confidential  manner,  and  at 
last  ended  by  going  off  together  for  a  walk  before 
the  evening  was  half  over.  Of  course,  she  had 
seen  them  act  just  that  way  before ;  but  then  she 
had  cared  nothing  whatever  about  it;  John  was 


"DO  YOU  CARE  FOR  JOHN  STEVENS?"  251 

always  very  queer,  and  she  never  knew  quite  how 
to  take  him.  In  fact,  that  was  about  the  only  rea- 
son she  had  retained  the  slightest  interest  in  him. 
A  girl  does  so  dislike  a  man  who  lets  her  know 
all  there  is  to  know  about  himself!  A  little  dis- 
creet reserve  is  such  a  charm  in  a  man. 

Now,  my  lady  Dian  felt  that  she  had  been  actu- 
ated by  a  very  uncommon  feeling  down  in  the 
grove,  and  she  had  actually  stooped  to  ask  a  man 
to  do  a  favor  for  her  own  sweet  sake  if  he  loved 
her,  forsooth.  Certainly  that  man  ought  to  re- 
spond by  devoting  himself  to  her  at  once  and  for- 
ever. And  that  man  was  doing  the  very  opposite 
thing.  Dian  had  forgotten  that  she  was  wearing 
Charlie  Rose's  ring;  had  quite  forgotten  all  that 
might  be  involved  or  inferred  from  such  a  circum- 
stance. She  watched  and  waited  for  their  return 
from  the  walk,  feeling  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  that  somebody  had  slighted  her. 

It  was  not  altogether  an  accident  that  she  sat 
under  the  cottonwood  tree  on  the  return  of  the 
two,  nor  was  it  wholly  by  design  that  my  lady 
looked  like  the  very  spirit  of  the  night,  with  her 
simple  white  dress,  her  pale  yellow  gleaming  hair 
breaking  about  her  face  in  rings  and  waves,  while 
her  white  arms,  bared  to  the  elbow,  rested  on  her 
lap  and  deadened  the  white  of  her  dress  by  their 
warm,  creamy  tints. 

Charlie  Rose  stood  at  a  little  distance,  evidently 
enjoying  every  detail  of  the  beautiful  picture  as  he 


252       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

leaned  on  the  rude  bars  of  the  fence  near  Dian. 
Ellen  came  up  to  Dian,  and  as  John  sat  down  on 
one  side  of  her,  she  slid  close  to  her  friend  on  the 
other  side,  and  put  her  arms  lovingly  around  her 
neck. 

"Oh,  Dian,  isn't  the  night  lovely?" 
"Yes,  dear,  it  is.    But  it  is  getting  late  and  we 
must  go  in." 

John  sat  so  close  to  the  fair-haired  girl  that  he 
could  see  the  starry  shine  in  her  soft  blue  eyes, 
and  as  he  looked  at  her  beautiful  face  the  remem- 
brance of  the  scene  he  had  witnessed  in  the  grove, 
and  that  this  dear  girl  had  been  gazed  at  and  ad- 
mired by  a  wicked  man,  brought  the  hot  tide  of 
feeling  welling  up  in  his  heart,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  turn  away  his  face  from  her  dazzling  beauty, 
while  he  slowly  stroked  his  long  beard,  and  lis- 
tened to  Charlie  Rose  exchanging  poetic  nonsense 
with  the  two  girls. 

"Two  stars  agleam  in  the  silent  night 
Two  girls  a-dream  in  the  soft  moonlight," 
improvised  Charlie. 

"The  girls  have  a  dread  of  a  cool  evening  breeze, 
For  they  catch  a  stray  cough,  two  colds  and  a 

sneeze," 

jeered  Dian  in  response.  And  she  took  Charlie's 
arm  as  she  allowed  him  to  escort  her  into  the 
house. 

Ah,  John  Stevens,  John  Stevens,  your  lesson 
is  not  learned  yet! 


"DO  YOU  CARE  FOR  JOHN  STEVENS?"  253 

As  the  two  girls  said  good-night  to  their  friends 
they  instinctively  sat  down  on  their  wagon-box 
bed  for  a  long  talk,  something  neither  had  enjoyed 
for  weeks;  and  they  felt  all  the  joy  of  recovered 
confidence.  What  if  Dian  did  feel  a  little  half 
jealous  of  Ellen,  and  Ellen  was  more  than  a  little 
jealous  of  Dian !  They  were  girls,  and  were  sin- 
cere friends.  Jealousy  could  not  rob  them  of  their 
real  affection  for  each  other;  they  were  both  too 
noble  for  that. 

In  the  long  and  confidential  talk  which  followed, 
Dian  learned  far  more  of  the  young  soldier's  visits 
than  had  been  told  John  Stevens.  And  while  Dian 
could  see  that  her  friend  had  been  in  a  very  dan- 
gerous position,  her  own  foolish  action  of  the  af- 
ternoon before  closed  her  lips  against  giving  the 
good  advice  with  which  she  was  generally  so 
ready. 

"But,  you  know,  Dian,  that  it  is  all  over  now, 
and  I  am  going  to  behave  myself  after  this.  Say, 
Dian,  do  you  care  anything  about  John  Stevens?" 

The  question  was  a  frank  one,  and  Diantha  was 
not  the  person  to  evade  any  sort  of  a  question.  But 
she  was  also  honest,  and  she  sat  some  minutes  be- 
fore giving  her  answer.  She  wanted  to  tell  the 
exact  truth. 

"No,  I  don't  care  about  John,  in  the  sense  of  the 
word  that  you  imply ;  I  don't  know  whether  I  ever 
could  or  not.  I  can't  tell;  maybe,  if  he  really 
loved  me,  and  tried  awfully  hard  to  make  me  love 


254       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

him,  well,  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  But  one  thing 
I  am  sure  of,  I  don't  care  anything  about  him 
now,  only  as  a  friend.  Why?" 

"Oh,  I  just  wanted  to  know,  dear ;  for  I  believe 
I  could  love  him  better  than  any  man  on  earth,  if 
he  would  let  me." 

"Well,  my  dear,  just  you  go  on  loving  him,  for  I 
am  sure  he  loves  you,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  hap- 
py with  him." 

It  would  not  be  the  truth  to  say  that  dignified 
Dian  felt  no  inner  pang  of  jealousy  as  she  uttered 
these  generous  sentiments.  There  stirred  in  her 
heart  a  very  indistinct  wish  to  know  the  exact 
condition  of  her  friend  John  Stevens'  affections. 
Curiosity  in  a  woman  is  not  always  a  common 
thing,  but  if  once  roused,  it  is  apt  to  be  a  very 
strong  motive. 

That  night  there  rode  into  Provo  the  Governor 
of  Utah,  accompanied  by  a  strong  posse  of  Utah 
militia.  He  had  come  to  expostulate  with  Brig- 
ham  Young,  and  to  induce  him  to  return  to  Salt 
Lake  City.  John  Stevens  was  on  his  way  from  the 
evening  frolic  to  the  President's  home,  to  take  up 
his  guard  duty,  when  he  met  the  party  just  riding 
into  town.  Governor  Gumming  hailed  John  with 
hearty  friendship. 

"Captain  Stevens,  I  am  happy  to  see  you  here. 
Will  you  kindly  inform  President  Young  that  I 
wish  to  see  him  as  soon  as  possible?" 


"DO  YOU  CARE  FOR  JOHN  STEVENS?"  255 

John  at  once  complied  with  this  somewhat  hur- 
ried and  informal  request,  and  was  on  hand  at  the 
conference  which,  late  as  was  the  hour,  proved 
not  very  long,  but  certainly  full  of  interest. 

The  anxious  and  wearied  Governor  laid  before 
the  "Mormon"  leader  all  the  conditions  through 
which  the  Territory  had  just  passed ;  he  rehearsed 
in  no  measured  terms  his  contempt  for  the  actions 
of  some  of  the  Federal  authorities ;  he  assured  the 
"Mormon"  leaders  that  Gen.  Johnston,  who  was 
now  safely  camped  in  the  Cedar  Valley,  would  do 
all  in  his  power  to  bring  about  peace  and  harmony 
in  the  unhappy  and  distracted  Territory.  He  told 
Brigham  Young  of  the  furore  that  the  Southern 
Move,  made  by  the  whole  population  of  Utah,  had 
created  in  the  East  and  in  Europe.  He  laid  before 
that  leader  of  a  hunted  band  of  religionists  copies 
of  the  "New  York  Times"  and  the  "London 
Times,"  which  contained  bitter  comments  on  this 
political  blunder  of  the  President  of  the  United 
States.  In  closing  his  speech,  he  gave  utterance 
to  a  manly  appeal  to  Brigham  Young  to  accept 
his  pledges  of  security,  and  at  once  to  take  up  his 
return  march  for  Great  Salt  Lake  City,  saying: 

"There  is  no  longer  any  danger,  sir.  General 
Johnston  and  the  army  will  keep  faith  with  the 
'Mormons.'  Every  one  concerned  with  this  happy 
settlement  will  keep  faith  and  hold  sacred  the  par- 
don and  amnesty  of  the  President  of  the  United 
States.  By ,  sir,  yes." 


256        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"We  know  all  about  it,  Governor.  Our  mem- 
ories are  long.  But  we  feel  assured  of  your  own 
integrity  in  this  matter,  and  for  that  we  grant  you 
our  fullest  confidence  and  friendship." 

"Then,  sir,"  said  the  kindly-disposed  official, 
"tomorrow,  being  the  birthday  of  our  glorious 
country,  the  Fourth  of  July,  I  shall  publish  a 
proclamation  to  the  'Mormons'  for  them  to  return 
to  their  homes." 

"Do  as  you  please,  Governor  Gumming,"  re- 
plied Brigham  Young,  with  his  quiet,  shrewd 
smile.  "Tomorrow  I  shall  get  upon  the  tongue  of 
my  wagon,  and  tell  the  people  that  I  am  going 
home,  and  that  they  can  do  as  they  please." 

And  it  was  so.  The  next  morning  in  the  cool 
daybreak,  the  leader  of  the  hosts  of  that  modern 
Israel  stood  upon  his  wagon  seat,  and  in  the 
clarion  tones  so  familiar  to  his  people,  he  called: 

"To  your  tents,  O  Israel !" 

And  once  more,  but  this  time  with  paeans  of 
mingled  sorrow  and  rejoicing  and  songs  of  praise 
not  unmixed  with  anxious  future  forebodings,  the 
people  prepared  to  take  up  the  line  of  march 
backward  to  the  deserted  homes,  to  the  grass- 
grown  streets  of  Salt  Lake  City  and  to  the  sun- 
dried  farms  and  fields  of  the  northern  Valley. 
The  Southern  Move  was  passing  into  the  annals 
of  a  deeply  engraved  history. 


XXVI 
COL.  SAXEY  EXPOSTULATES 

HE  hurry,  confusion  and  turmoil  conse- 
quent upon  packing  were  endured  gladly 
by  every  one  in  Provo  and  vicinity,  for 
every  heart  beat  high  with  joy  that  their 
beloved  lands  and  homes  were  not  to  be  left  be- 
hind once  more  and  they  themselves  turned  again 
into  the  desert,  homeless  and  poor. 

Diantha  rode  to  the  city  with  her  brother  in  his 
spring  wagon.  As  she  sat  on  the  front  seat,  she 
was  soon  covered  with  dust,  and  with  the  loss  of 
her  pink  and  white  complexion  came  an  appreci- 
able decline  in  the  thermometer  of  her  generally 
sweet  and  cheerful  disposition.  No  one  ever  ac- 
cused Diantha  of  vanity,  but  there  was  nothing 
which  made  my  dainty  lady  so  thoroughly  an- 
noyed as  to  feel  that  she  was  looking  ugly  and 
commonplace ;  and  above  all  to  know  that  she  was 
disheveled,  disorderly,  or  unclean;  all  of  which 
goes  to  prove  that  all  are  of  the  earth,  earthy. 

Ellen  Tyler  rode  several  teams  behind  Dian,  in 
her  father's  wagon,  the  spring  carriage  being  oc- 
cupied by  other  members  of  the  family.  Now,  no 
matter  how  dusty  the  road  nor  how  much  at  a  dis- 
advantage dear  little  Ellen  might  be  placed,  if  she 
were  only  treated  lovingly  and  kindly  by  those 

17 


258       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

she  loved,  and  if  she  were  sure  of  "one  true  heart 
beside  her,"  as  she  herself  put  it,  she  was  always 
cheerful  and  pleasant.  And  Ellen  was  in  high 
feather,  for  John  Stevens  drove  the  wagon  she  was 
in,  and  the  whole  journey  seemed  more  like  a 
pleasure  trip  than  a  dusty  two  days'  journey. 

The  party  were  toiling  up  the  long  and  steep 
grade  to  the  north  of  the  village  of  Lehi,  and  John 
was  out  of  the  wagon,  walking  beside  his  team, 
whistling  occasionally  to  his  horses,  and  some- 
times coming  up  to  the  wagon  to  hear  the  merry 
chatter  of  his  companion.  He  had  allowed  him- 
self to  get  some  distance  behind  his  team  when 
he  saw,  in  a  sudden  turn  of  the  road,  a  small  party 
of  horsemen  coming  towards  them,  and  as  the 
dust  cleared  away,  he  discovered  they  were  sol- 
diers. He  tried  to  hurry  up  so  that  he  might  be 
near  or  reach  Ellen  before  they  passed  her,  for 
instinct  warned  him  that  there  was  need,  yet  it 
was  too  late.  As  they  passed  him,  he  gazed  at  the 
dashing  captain — for  it  was  Captain  Sherwood, 
his  own  despised  enemy — to  whom  he  gave  a  look 
of  hate  and  repugnance.  It  was  returned  with  a 
flash  of  sneering  triumph. 

The  gay  captain  had  cause  to  be  triumphant. 

As  he  passed  by  the  long  train  of  wagons,  his 
eyes  were  eagerly  searching  each  wagon  for  the 
two  faces  he  had  come  out  purposely  to  see.  He 
hardly  knew  Diantha.  He  had  seen  her  but  once, 
and  now  the  gold  of  her  hair  was  a  tawny  clay, 


COL.  SAXEY  EXPOSTULATES       259 

and  the  tiny  curls  were  stiff  with  dust;  while  the 
enchanting  pink  and  white  of  her  skin  was  lost  in 
a  deep,  sun-flushed  crimson,  covered  over  with 
the  dun  dust  of  the  valley  road. 

As  soon  as  he  recognized  her,  however,  and  that 
only  as  they  met  face  to  face,  he  raised  his  cap 
with  a  courtly  bow. 

Whether  Diantha  was  a  little  afraid  of  her 
brother's  instant  anger,  or  whether  she  was  moved 
by  her  own  sense  of  right  and  propriety,  or 
whether  there  was  mingled  with  it  all  an  indigna- 
tion that  she  had  not  been  recognized  because  of 
her  unprepossessing  appearance,  she  herself  never 
tried  to  fathom;  but  certain  it  was  that  my  lady 
stiffened  herself  into  an  attitude  of  freezing  hau- 
teur, visible  through  all  her  dusty  disguises,  and 
with  a  stony  stare  of  her  gleaming  blue  eyes,  she 
coldly  looked  into  the  laughing  black  eyes  bent 
upon  her,  and  gave  the  soldier  the  cut  direct. 

"I  say,  old  chap,  that  young  lady  would  give 
pointers  to  a  New  Orleans  belle  in  giving  a  fellow 
his  conge,  but  I  should  say  she  was  not  bad-look- 
ing when  properly  dressed."  So  spake  a  fellow 
officer  as  the  two  rode  at  the  head  of  their  squad. 
Captain  Sherwood  had  urged  his  superior  officer, 
Col.  Saxey,  to  come  along,  as  he  had  learned  that 
this  party  were  on  the  road,  and  he  wanted  his 
friend  to  see  the  two  girls  who  had  so  taken  his 
own  fancy. 

Ellen  saw  them  coming,  and  first  looking  dis- 


260         JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

erectly  back  to  see  that  John  was  well  out  of 
sight,  she  gave  the  captain  a  laughing  and  apolo- 
getic smile,  and  then  turned  her  head  coquettishly 
aside,  as  the  horsemen  dashed  by. 

"That  girl  is  as  pretty  as  the  other,  only  in  a 
different  way,"  said  Col.  Saxey.  "But  I  would  ad- 
vise you,  Sherwood,  to  let  these  women  alone. 
You  will  make  yourself  and  others  a  great  deal  of 
unnecessary  trouble,  and  I  can't  see  that  it  will 
do  you  or  anyone  else  any  good." 

"Oh,  d — n  your  advice,  Saxey.  What  is  life, 
anyway?" 

"Life,"  answered  Col.  Saxey  to  his  friend  Sher- 
wood, "is  pretty  much  what  we  make  it ;  good,  bad 
or  indifferent.  But,  really,  Sherwood,  I  wish  you 
would  take  an  old  friend's  advice,  and  let  those 
'Mormon'  women  alone.  You  know  these  people 
are  nearly  wild  with  fear  anyway,  and  I  think  it 
the  height  of  folly  for  us  to  add  to  their  discom- 
fiture." 

"I  can't  imagine  how  I  am  going  to  hurt  any- 
body by  falling  in  love  with  a  pretty  girl,  and  even 
marrying  her,  if  worst  comes  to  worst." 

"You  know  quite  well,  old  fellow,  you  would 
never  dream  of  marrying  one  of  these  uneducated, 
uncultured  western  girls;  and  when  you  remem- 
ber that  she  is  of  'Mormon'  stock;  what  an  ab- 
surdity! Why,  what  do  you  think  your  proud 
family  down  in  Louisiana  would  say  to  such  a 
thing?  Give  it  up,  Clem;  give  it  up." 


COL.  SAXEY  EXPOSTULATES       261 

"Say,  Saxey,"  and  the  young  officer  turned  and 
faced  his  companion,  reining  in  his  horse  to  a  halt 
that  he  might  look  the  other  fairly  in  the  eyes,  "I 
want  you  to  tell  me  what  you  and  I  or  any  of  the 
rest  of  our  fellows  are  going  to  do  out  here,  thou- 
sands of  miles  from  home  and  civilization?  I  say, 
what  are  we  going  to  do?  I  certainly  need  the 
love  and  tenderness  of  a  dear  little  woman,  such  as 
one  of  these  girls." 

"I  am  more  than  surprised,  Clem,  to  hear  you 
speak  so  coolly  of  the  ruin  of  a  good,  innocent 
girl.  What  can  possess  you?" 

"What  can  possess  you,  my  virtuous  friend? 
Where  have  you  learned  your  lessons  of  life,  if  not 
in  the  school  of  experience?  I  must  be  in  love 
with  somebody,  and  lucky  it  is  for  me  that  I  have 
such  delightful  material  to  waste  a  bit  of  my  time 
and  heart's  affection  upon.  You  see  that  I  am  re- 
fined enough  to  wish  even  my  bacon  to  be  of  the 
choicest  cut,  and  fricasseed  to  the  most  delicate 
brown,  instead  of  fried  in  huge  slices  and  served 
with  chunks  of  bread." 

They  were  riding  slowly  on  through  the  dust 
and  heat,  and  the  elder  officer  turned  and  looked 
keenly  into  the  face  of  handsome  Captain  Sher- 
wood, who  was  stroking  his  small  black  mustache, 
and  smiling  at  his  inward  fancies. 

"Sherwood,"  he  said,  at  last,  "I  must  confess 
that  I  have  never  in  my  life  realized  the  full  mean- 
ing of  all  you  imply  until  this  hour-  Men  allow 


262       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

themselves  to  float  down  the  current  of  custom 
and  do  and  say  many  things  which  are,  it  seems 
to  me,  in  my  present  mood,  unmanly  as  well  as 
impure.  True,  men  of  the  world  have  always 
done  the  same  things,  and  rarely  stop  to  ask  ques- 
tions in  regard  to  the  matter;  but — well,  in  fact, 
things  look  a  little  different  now." 

"What  has  changed  the  current  of  your  opinion, 
my  wise  friend?" 

"Something  in  the  face  of  that  haughty  girl,  as 
she  looked  her  disdain  to  you,  and  the  look  of 
fierce  hatred  which  that  tall,  red-bearded  fellow 
gave  you  as  he  passed  you,  have  set  me  to  think- 
ing. Maybe  we  are  as  guilty  of  crime  in  hunting 
out  these  people  as  were  the  Roman  soldiers  when 
they  burned  the  Christians  at  the  stake." 

Sherwood  gazed  with  more  and  more  astonish- 
ment at  the  words  of  his  friend,  and  at  the  close 
of  the  little,  conscience-stricken  speech,  he  burst 
into  a  hearty  peal  of  laughter,  and  again  and 
again  he  laughed  as  he  recalled  the  absurdity  of 
such  a  comparison. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  old  boy,  but  it  is  too  ut- 
terly funny  for  words.  These  adulterous,  ignor- 
ant, impudent  'Mormons'  to  be  compared  to  the 
ancient  Christians?  Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

The  elder  man  winced  a  little  under  the  fire  of 
ridicule,  but  his  own  sense  of  right  and  honor  told 
him  his  position  was  the  true  one,  and  he  felt 
stealing  over  him  a  contempt  and  repugnance  for 


COL.  SAXEY  EXPOSTULATES       263 

the  man  who  could  so  recklessly  plan  the  destruc- 
tion of  innocent,  helpless  womanhood. 

The  soldiers  reached  the  outskirts  of  their  own 
camp  late  that  afternoon,  and  as  Col.  Saxey  gazed 
at  the  crowded  hive  of  huts  and  tents,  filled  with 
men,  a  few  women,  and  many  squaws,  which  com- 
posed the  nondescript  village  just  across  the 
stream  from  Camp  Floyd,  he  felt  a  sense  of  horror 
and  dislike  for  all  that  this  motley  crowd  signi- 
fied, which  he  had  never  before  felt,  and  which 
was  as  surprising  as  it  was  new  to  him. 

Camp  Floyd  had  been  laid  out  with  the  care  and 
skill  which  characterized  all  the  labors  of  General 
Johnston.  At  the  hillside  lay  the  officers'  quar- 
ters, while  down  the  river  a  little  lower  were  sta- 
tioned the  quarters  of  the  men,  with  the  parade 
ground  between.  All  the  tents  had  been  pitched 
on  a  low  three-foot  adobe  foundation,  thus  giving 
some  measure  of  comfort  to  their  temporary  struc- 
tures. Outside  the  camp,  and  across  the  bridge 
which  spanned  the  small  mountain  stream,  was  a 
collection  of  rude  log  huts,  one  or  two  small  adobe 
houses,  and  a  great  many  tents  of  all  sizes,  all 
pitched  on  the  low  adobe  walls.  Here  were  gath- 
ered the  usual  camp  followers,  those  who  did  the 
store-keeping,  the  washing,  the  ironing,  the  mak- 
ers and  vendors  of  every  commodity  bought  and 
sold  in  the  camp.  In  this  place  all  grades  of  camp- 
followers  were  sheltered. 

Men  were  there,  some  few    decent  and  eager 


264        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

only  for  the  labor  and  exchange  of  money  for 
that  labor  which  came  to  them;  others  willing  to 
buy  and  sell  anything  on  earth  which  could  be 
traded  off.  The  most  of  them  were  drunken, 
carousing,  miserable  wretches,  possessed  of  no 
impulse  but  that  of  a  selfish  and  sensual  gratifica- 
tion. Here  a  coarse  woman,  with  a  flaunting  air 
and  a  ribald  jest,  passed  through  the  throng,  and 
there  a  squaw  sat  beside  the  road,  her  eyes  red 
with  the  whisky  she  had  sold  herself  for,  and  her 
face  horrible  with  the  soulless  leer  of  savage,  half- 
drunken  invitation. 

A  wave  of  horror  passed  over  the  sensitive  face 
of  Col.  Saxey  as  this  accustomed  scene  appeared 
to  him  for  the  first  time  in  its  true  colors.  He  al- 
most hated  himself  that  he  was  a  man.  Sherwood 
noticed  nothing  unusual,  and  as  they  passed  a 
woman  with  a  red  scarf  across  her  shoulder,  he 
tossed  her  a  coin,  as  he  said  lightly : 

"There  is  enough  for  two  drunks,  Liz,  and 
don't  try  to  run  them  both  into  one,  either;  for 
the  last  time  you  did  that,  you  raised  such  a  row 
that  the  Colonel  threatened  to  have  the  whole 
place  cleaned  out." 

Louisiana  Liz,  as  she  was  called,  screamed 
back  her  thanks,  and  with  her  large,  dark,  but 
bleared  and  blood-shot  eyes  she  flashed  up  at  the 
young  man  her  most  fascinating  gaze. 

Arrived  at  their  own  quarters,  the  officers  were 


COL.  SAXEY  EXPOSTULATES       265 

met  by  an  orderly,  who  instructed  them  to  report 
at  headquaters  that  evening. 

"I  particularly  request  you  gentlemen,"  said 
General  Johnston,  when  they  reported  at  his  tent, 
"not  so  much  in  a  military  capacity,  as  in  the 
name  of  decency  and  honor,  to  remain  as  much  as 
possible  in  your  own  quarters,  and  to  keep  away 
from  these  'Mormon'  villages.  As  for  the  men, 
I  wish  you  to  deal  severely  with  any  of  them  who 
go  far  from  camp;  in  fact  I  wish  all  to  be  done 
that  can  be  done  to  keep  down  unnecessary  ex- 
citement. You  understand,  gentlemen?" 

"I  wonder  if  the  gallant  general  imagines,"  said 
Sherwood,  as  they  walked  away  from  the  general's 
tent,  "that  any  one  is  going  to  obey  strictly  his  or- 
ders and  requests.  Why,"  said  he,  as  the  two  were 
returning  to  their  own  tents,  "he  is  either  very 
simple  or  else  very  tame  if  he  expects  either  offi- 
cers or  men  are  to  be  entirely  restricted  in  mak- 
ing some  sport  out  of  this  dead,  dreary  and  ab- 
surd campaign." 

"I  think  the  general  is  entirely  right,  Sherwood, 
and  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  shall  do  what  I  can 
to  carry  out  his  orders;  even  to  reporting  de- 
linquents, officers  as  well  as  men,"  he  added  sig- 
nificantly, as  he  gave  a  quick  glance  at  his  com- 
panion. 

"Oh,  well,  'catching  comes  before  hanging,'  is  a 
true  if  a  vulgar  proverb,  so  I  bid  you  a  pleasant 
good-night." 


266        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

As  Captain  Sherwood  turned  into  his  own  tent, 
he  was  surprised  to  find  a  figure  dimly  outlined 
by  the  sputtering  tallow  candle,  crouching  near 
his  bunk. 

"What  on  earth  are  you  doing  here,  Liz? 
Don't  you  know  it  would  mean  severe  punishment 
to  you  and  disgrace  to  me,  if  you  were  found  in- 
side these  lines?" 

The  half-breed  Creole  laughed  with  a  low, 
sneering  sound  and  answered  softly: 

"Do  you  think  I  have  forgotten  all  the  lessons 
of  my  youth,  learned  in  the  silent  swamps  of  our 
early  Louisiana  home?  Fear  not,  the  snake  her- 
self is  not  more  silent,  nor  the  night-bird  more 
swift  in  her  flight  than  I.  Fear  not!"  And  she 
laughed  again,  with  a  quiet,  mirthless  chuckle. 


XXVII. 
CHRISTMAS  EVE,  1858. 

T|  HE  days  and  weeks  of  the  dry,  brilliant 
I   summer  and   autumn  flew  along  with 
dusty,  burnished  wings.    For  some  time 
the  efforts  of  the  commanding  officer  at 
Camp  Floyd  were  measurably  successful  in  re- 
straining undue  intercourse  between  his  men  and 
the  people  of  the  neighboring  settlements. 

In  the  city  of  Great  Salt  Lake  the  affairs  of  the 
people  went  on  with  much  the  same  regularity 
and  soberness  that  had  always  characterized  them. 
Yet,  underneath  every  act  and  word,  one  could 
feel  the  current  of  silent  expectation  and  prepara- 
tion among  this  hunted  people;  expectation  of 
anything  sudden  and  vicious  which  the  army  of 
Utah  might  attempt  to  do ;  and  a  consequent  prep- 
aration for  defense  and  perhaps  war.  There  was 
a  small  reign  of  terror,  at  times,  rampant  in  those 
whilom  silent  city  streets.  While  the  officers 
might  hold  their  own  men  in  check,  they  exercised 
no  authority  over  the  crowd  of  vile  camp-follow- 
ers which  sometimes  swept  up  and  over  those 
city  thoroughfares  with  a  terrifying  cloud  of  de- 
bauchery and  crime. 

President  Young  was  threatened  continually  in 


268       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

divers  ways;  by  anonymous  letters;  by  wild  and 
erratic  apostates ;  and  he  knew  through  reports  of 
authorized  agents  that  no  effort  would  be  spared 
by  the  district  judges  or  the  military  force  to  put 
his  freedom  and  his  life  in  jeopardy.  Around  him, 
therefore,  was  gathered  a  trusty  band  of  his  brav- 
est and  best  friends ;  and  among  them  was  found 
our  good  friend,  John  Stevens.  His  watch  at  the 
President's  office  came  at  night,  and  he  was  there- 
fore prevented  from  attending  many  of  the  parties 
and  balls  which  still  went  on  in  every  part  of  the 
city.  Brigham  Young  knew  his  people  too  well  to 
allow  other  and  less  innocent  occupations  to  usurp 
the  place  of  the  dance  and  amateur  theater. 

On  Christmas  eve,  1858,  there  was  to  be  a  mag- 
nificent ball  given  in  the  fine,  new  Social  Hall.  Oh, 
the  blessed  memories  clinging  around  that  dear 
old  hall!  What  scenes  of  enjoyment,  and  frolic, 
sweet  and  pure,  have  been  celebrated  within  its 
gray  walls!  What  hearts  have  met  their  fate, 
what  lips  have  spoken  the  words  of  love  eternal, 
while  mingling  in  the  happy  dance — old  and 
young,  rich  and  poor!  No  class  distinctions  ever 
marred  the  festivities  of  that  generous  place !  No 
separation  of  old  folks  from  the  young  ever  jarred 
upon  the  spirit  of  mutual  love  and  confidence 
which  marked  the  social  intercourse  of  the  Saints. 
And  what  wonderful  plays  were  enacted  by  that 
remarkable  company  of  players,  headed  by  Hiram 
Clawson,  John  T.  Caine,  James  Ferguson  and  Mrs. 


CHRISTMAS  EVE,  1858  269 

Wheelock  and  Mrs.  Gibson !  Dear  are  these  pre- 
cious memories  to  the  children  of  the  pioneers ;  for 
within  these  walls  they  learned,  through  definite 
object  lessons,  that  religion  was  not  merely  a  Sab- 
bath affair,  put  on  as  a  cloak !  Ah,  no ;  it  entered 
into  the  very  center  of  pulsating  life  and  emotion, 
and  was  a  living  entity  in  the  innocent,  religious 
pleasures,  as  well  as  the  simple,  trustful  sorrows 
of  this  blessed  people ! 

"I  am  going  to  bring  my  dress  over  to  your 
house,  Dian,"  said  Ellen  Tyler,  early  that  Christ- 
mas eve,  "and  get  ready  with  you,  for  I  want  you 
to  fix  my  hair ;  you  have  such  lovely  taste.  I  never 
look  so  well  as  when  you  arrange  my  hair  and 
dress.  And  then  I  can  get  the  use  of  your  look- 
ing-glass, too." 

Ellen  did  look  lovely.  She  had  a  new  pink  print 
dress,  and  print  dresses  in  those  days  were  as  su- 
perior to  the  common  calicoes  of  today,  as  are  the 
prices  of  today  less  than  were  those  early  stand- 
ards of  values.  The  skirt  was  made  with  dainty, 
flying  ruffles,  nearly  to  the  waist,  and  edged  with 
the  prettiest  of  hand-crocheted  lace;  while  the 
waist,  full  and  gathered  into  the  belt,  was  fitted 
with  billowy  sleeves  of  bishop  shape.  At  the  belt 
and  near  the  left  shoulder  were  flying  bows  of 
pink  ribbon ;  while  peeping  behind  the  right  ear,  a 
tiny  bow  of  pink  made  the  chestnut  brown  hair 
richer  for  its  suggestive  contrast. 

"Ellie,  dear,  you  look  just  like  one    of    Aunt 


270       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Clara's  spice  pinks!  I  never  saw  you  look  so 
lovely.  I  could  hug  you  myself  for  very  admira- 
tion." 

Dian  stood  afar  off  from  her  friend  admiring  her, 
and  approaching  Ellen  at  last,  she  bestowed  upon 
the  soft,  pale  cheek,  a  small  pinch,  to  give  the 
delicate  tint  needed  to  complete  the  exquisite  pic- 
ture. 

"Well,  it's  no  use  telling  you  how  you  look, 
Dian,  for  I  am  sure  you  know  it  so  well  yourself ; 
the  fact  of  your  own  magnificent  charm  is  so  ap- 
parent that  it  is  nonsense  for  anyone  to  try  and 
natter  you." 

"Are  you  making  fun  of  me,  Ellie?"  queried 
Diantha,  as  she  turned  around  from  the  tiny  look- 
ing-glass to  ask  her  question..  "I  know  well 
enough  that  I  have  a  passably  good  form,  and 
that  I  do  have  some  taste  in  dressing  myself ;  but 
I  hate  these  ugly  red  cheeks,  and  would  give 
anything  in  this  world  for  your  clear,  pale  com- 
plexion." 

The  girl  looked  with  a  positive  gleam  of  anger 
in  her  flashing  blue  eyes  at  the  image  of  herself 
reflected  in  the  glass,  and  muttered  as  she  pre- 
tended to  pinch  her  own  rose-tinted  cheeks :  "Oh, 
you  ugly,  scarlet  things,  how  I  hate  you !" 

"It  makes  me  unhappy,  Dian,  to  hear  you  call 
yourself  ugly.  You  know  God  has  blessed  you 
with  rare  gifts  of  face  and  form,  and  you  ought 
not  to  speak  as  you  do,  let  alone  feeling  so  wicked 


271 


about  your  red  cheeks.  They  are  lovely  to  me. 
They  always  make  me  feel  as  if  I  would  like  to 
take  a  bite  out  of  them,  as  I  would  from  a  red 
June  apple." 

Dian  was  almost  in  tears  now,  at  such  a  home- 
ly, unpoetic  comparison,  and  her  friend  hastened 
to  change  the  conversation. 

"Say,  Dian,  do  you  think  John  Stevens  can  get 
off  tonight  to  come  down  to  the  ball?  I  feel  as  if 
half  of  my  fun  would  be  gone  without  him." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure.  I  haven't  seen 
John  for  weeks.  He  is  up  at  the  President's  office 
night  arid  day,  I  guess." 

"Well,  I  will  have  to  content  myself  with  Tom 
Allen,  or  Brother  Leon,  I  guess,  for  I  must  have 
some  fun  with  somebody.  I  am  just  wild  for  a 
frolic.  I  can  hardly  wait  for  Tom  to  come,  I 
want  so  much  to  get  to  the  party." 

The  girl  was  indeed  full  of  the  vitality  of  youth 
and  health,  and  her  pulse  danced  and  tingled  with 
expectant  pleasure.  She  was  young,  lovely  and 
loving,  and  she  longed  for  love  and  admiration. 
Who  could  blame  her? 


XXVIII 
THE  BALL  IN  THE  SOCIAL  HALL 


A 


RRIVED  at  the  hall,  the  girls  left  their 
escorts  at  the  door,  and  hurried  into  the 
crowded  dressing  room  under  the  stage. 
What  hand-shakings  and  laughing  ex- 
change of  greetings  they  found  there!  What 
merry  peals  of  gentle  laughter!  What  garrulous 
exchanges  of  confidences  as  to  the  causes  and  ef- 
fects of  the  day's  labors  and  pleasures,  were 
buzzing  in  the  two  low-ceiled,  square  dressing 
rooms  that  happy  night! 

Up  from  the  basement  came  the  fragrant  odor 
of  baking  meats,  and  delicious  pastry.  A  small 
army  of  cooks  was  busy  preparing  the  elaborate 
supper;  for  this  was  one  of  the  good  old-time 
parties,  for  which  the  tickets  cost  five  dollars  in 
scrip  or  produce,  or  less  in  cash;  and  the  guests 
came  at  early  dusk,  and  after  dancing  for  three  or 
four  hours,  were  served  at  the  loaded  tables  in  the 
basement,with  the  luxuries  and  delicacies  of  moui*- 
tain  food  and  mountain  cooking;  after  eating 
heartily  of  the  supper,  all  were  ready  then  for 
the  dance  to  be  renewed  until  the  early  morning 
hours;  at  any  time,  however,  the  merry-makers 
were  glad  to  cease  from  the  gay  quadrilles,  and 


THE  BALL  IN  THE  SOCIAL  HALL       273 

listen  to  the  wise  counsel  or  appropriate  remarks 
made,  perchance,  by  the  Presidency  of  the  Church 
or  other  good  speakers,  who  were  ever  the  mer- 
riest and  best  dancers  in  the  room.  At  these  in- 
nocent revelries  also,  there  was  a  grateful  lack  of 
unholy  passions  and  impure  thoughts  and  words 
begotten  by  the  too  frequent  round  dancing  of 
novel-reading  youths. 

"Did  you  ever,  in  your  life,  see  Diantha  and  El- 
lie  look  so  pretty?"  asked  more  than  one  unselfish 
mother,  as  the  two  girls  came  up  the  little  stair- 
way from  the  dressing  room,  into  the  main  hall, 
followed  by  their  cavaliers. 

Diantha  was  entrancing  in  her  simple,  straight- 
skirted,  pale-blue  slip — for  she  scorned  the  bal- 
loon-like hoops  of  the  day — with  no  ornament 
save  the  pale  gold  masses  of  her  luminous  hair, 
and  the  rich  pink  and  white  of  her  unappreciated 
but  glorious  complexion.  She  herself  disliked 
her  chief  charm,  the  warm,  rich  coloring,  which 
gave  so  much  glowing  life  and  fascinating  vitality 
to  the  otherwise  somewhat  cold  expression  and 
haughty  air. 

Both  the  girls  danced  with  the  lightest  grace 
and  the  keenest  enjoyment,  and  each  was  besieged 
with  partners,  for  both  were  recognized  belles  in 
their  own  circle.  Ellen  Tyler  watched  and  waited 
in  vain  for  the  appearance  of  her  beloved  friend, 
John  Stevens.  She  had  never  heard  a  word  of 
love  from  his  lips;  indeed,  she  had  never  given 

18 


274        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

him  direct  encouragement  to  offer  such  words; 
but  she  knew  that,  with  a  little  insistence  on  his 
part,  she  could  pour  out  to  him  the  wealth  of  her 
young  heart.  And  with  all  her  swarm  of  admir- 
ers, she  was  unsatisfied,  and  yearning  for  the  love 
that  had  never  been  offered  her.  Yet  she  was  too 
sweet  and  womanly  to  think  for  a  moment  of 
showing  more  interest  in  any  man  than  his  own 
interest  in  her  justified.  And  so  she  waited  and 
watched,  trying  to  dance  always  in  the  set  nearest 
the  stairway  which  led  to  the  outer  north  entrance 
of  the  hall. 

She  was  not  particularly  surprised  when  a 
small  boy  came  up  to  her  and  whispered  that  a 
gentleman  outside  wished  to  speak  to  her  for  a 
moment. 

"Oh,"  she  murmured  in  her  heart,  "it  must  be 
John." 

She  threw  a  shawl  around  her  in  passing  the 
dressing  room,  and  followed  the  boy  outside.  She 
saw  no  one  when  she  got  in  the  deserted  doorway 
and  was  about  to  turn  around  and  go  back  to  the 
hall,  for  the  lane  looked  very  dark  and  forbidding 
at  that  late  hour. 

Just  as  she  turned,  a  man  with  a  dark  cloak  en- 
veloping his  whole  form  stepped  out  from  the 
east  corner  of  the  building  and,  with  a  low  bow, 
said  softly : 

"Forgive  me,  Miss  Tyler,  but  the  sight  of 
heaven  tempted  my  to  try  and  draw  out  the  angel, 


THE  BALL  IN  THE  SOCIAL  HALL    275 

if  but  for  one  moment.  I  am  lonesome,  a  stranger, 
and  full  of  longing  for  the  acquaintance  of  a  sweet 
woman,  be  she  sister  or  friend." 

Ellen  recognized  the  voice  of  her  soldier  ac- 
quaintance, and  she  involuntarily  shrank  back 
from  him. 

"Do  not  shrink  from  me,  dear,  sweet,  gentle 
spirit.  I  am  but  a  lonely,  unhappy  man,  so  near 
to  a  paradise  of  laughter,  love  and  music,  and  yet 
unable  to  partake  of  one  single  element  of  all  the 
glory  that  I  see.  You  remember,  even  the  angels 
are  not  ashamed  to  pity." 

Just  then  someone  came  into  the  lane  from  the 
sidewalk,  and  Ellen  hurriedly  moved  away  to  en- 
ter the  deep  doorway.  As  she  turned,  she  felt  a 
note  thrust  into  her  hand  and  then  she  was  once 
more  inside  the  safe  precincts  of  the  lighted,  noisy 
building,  and  she  put  the  note  deep  down  into  her 
pocket  for  future  reference. 

When  she  once  more  made  her  way  into  the 
dancing  hall,  she  was  surprised  to  find  John  Ste- 
vens dancing  on  the  floor,  and  with  no  less  a  per- 
son than  her  dear  friend  Diantha.  She  wondered 
how  she  had  missed  him,  but  reflected  that  he 
must  have  come  in  while  she  was  in  the  dressing 
room  hunting  her  shawl. 

"He  will  soon  come  to  me,"  she  whispered  to 
herself,  and  waited  impatiently  for  that  coming. 

But  he  did  not  come.  Diantha  and  he  danced 
together  the  first  time  and  the  second  and  the 


276       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

third  time,  and  as  Ellen  had  refused  to  dance,  and 
was  sitting  on  the  side  benches,  she  could  easily 
follow  them  as  the  couple  moved  through  the 
mazes  of  the  quadrille  and  reel.  Diantha's  cheeks 
were  glowing,  and  her  eyes  looked  like  blazing 
stars  in  the  azure  blue,  while  her  lips  were  like 
the  red  balls  on  the  winter  wild  rose  bushes.  And 
Ellen's  sharp  eyes  noted  that  Diantha  was  not 
now  wearing  Charlie's  ring.  What  was  happen- 
ing? Dian  floated  round  with  a  rythmical  grace 
that  was  always  so  witching  an  accomplishment 
of  her  queenly  beauty.  Ellen  watched  and  lis- 
tened. She  was  too  shrewd  not  to  detect  some 
meaning  beneath  all  this  throbbing  excitement, 
and  she  knew  that  there  was  more  than  the  usual 
effort  to  fascinate,  in  the  manner  of  her  friend 
Dian. 

As  for  John,  he  seemed  almost  another  man. 
Talk  about  blazing  eyes;  his  almost  burned  into 
flame  as  he  kept  his  intense  gaze  fastened  upon 
the  uplifted  glances  of  his  companion.  He  said 
little;  Ellen  could  see  that;  but  his  look  and  his 
manner  as  he  came  near  his  dancing  partner  be- 
trayed his  whole  secret.  It  was  for  the  first  time, 
too,  for  never  before  had  he  received  such  open, 
such  undisguised  encouragement  from  the  girl  be- 
side him. 

"John  never  looked  at  me  like  that,"  whispered 
Ellen  in  her  own  heart,  "never,  never!" 

The  two  dancers  were  so  absorbed  in  each  oth- 


er  that  they  gave  no  heed  whatever  to  anyone 
about  them,  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that  the  brief 
space  of  time  spent  by  John  in  that  eventful  ball 
was  spent  wholly  in  the  society  of  Diantha. 

Ellen's  enjoyment  was  all  over.  She  felt  nothing 
but  a  thrill  of  jealous  regret,  mingled  with  a  pas- 
sionate wish  for  another  love  to  prove  to  John 
Stevens  that  she,  too,  could  be  sought  and  she 
felt  as  well  an  intense  desire  for  the  love  itself.  She 
was  such  a  tender,  clinging  nature,  physical  love 
to  her  was  not  an  incident,  it  was  life  itself. 

When  she  was  safely  at  home  she  opened  her 
note  and  by  the  light  of  her  tallow  candle,  she 
read: 

"My  Dear  Young  Friend: 

"I  trust  you  will  pardon  the  seeming  forwardness  of 
this  letter.  Yours  is  such  a  gentle,  forgiving  nature, 
that  you  can  but  excuse,  especially  when  you  know  that 
the  act  is  prompted  by  as  deep  an  affection  and  as  earn- 
est an  admiration  as  could  be  bestowed  by  the  heart  of 
a  man.  I  am  heartsick  and  alone.  I  find  myself  filled 
with  a  love  which  is  as  hopeless  as  it  is  passionate; 
will  you  not  let  me  at  least  have  the  mournful  pleasure 
of  expressing  that  love,  although  I  know  too  well  its 
hopeless  character?  You  are  so  good,  so  pure  that  it 
cannot  hurt  you  to  become  the  one  star  of  peace  in  a 
stranger's  dark  horizon.  I  would  offer  you  all  the  love, 
protection  and  devotion  usual  to  my  walk  in  life,  if  I 
knew  that  I  dared. 

"At  least,  let  me  have  the  opportunity  of  telling  you, 
once  for  all,  the  love  that  fills  my  whole  being  for  the 
angel  who  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of  the  anger  and 


278       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ostracism  of  her  own  people.  Will  you  not  meet  me  for 
a  few  happy,  happy  moments  while  I  tell  you  of  my 
friendship  and  esteem?  I  will  be  on  the  northeast  cor- 
ner of  the  block  on  which  you  live,  with  a  sleigh,  to- 
morrow evening  after  nine  o'clock.  If  you  wear  a  white 
scarf  over  your  head  I  shall  see  you  in  the  distance,  and 
know  you  are  coming. 
"I  am  forever  your  hopeless,  despairing 

"LOVER." 

The  note  was  written  on  heavy  cream-tinted 
paper.  It  bore  a  beautiful  crest  or  monogram  in 
one  corner,  and  it  was  sealed  delicately  with  pink 
sealing-wax,  stamped  with  a  signet  ring,  which 
bore  the  device  of  some  ancient  French  noble- 
man, and  it  was  filled  with  a  delicious  ^erfumery, 
the  odor  of  which  floated  around  her  like  a  visible 
presence.  Ellen  felt  in  her  inmost  soul  that  she 
should  at  once  destroy  this  letter,  and  go  to  Aunt 
Clara  with  her  whole  secret;  but  it  was  such  an 
entrancing  letter!  And  John  Stevens  had  flouted 
her  so  cruelly.  No!  She  would  keep  the  letter 
— just  to  read  it  again !  And  then  Ellen  gave  her- 
self over  to  vague,  delirious  day-dreams. 


XXIX 
DIANTHA'S  SUDDEN  AWAKENING 

aHREE  weeks  after  the  ball  in  the  Social 
Hall,  the  two  girls  were  at  a  rag-bee  at 
Aunt  Clara  Tyler's.  There  was  the  usual 
light  gossip,  and  jolly  laughter,  and  as 
was  always  the  case  at  Aunt  Clara's  home,  every- 
body felt  unusually  kind  and  pleasant.  Aunt 
Clara  had  the  faculty  of  making  everybody  feel 
desirous  of  doing  and  saying  the  best  that  was  in 
them.  ^ 

"Did  you  hear  that  Tom  Allen  and  his  girl  are 
to  be  married  at  last?"  asked  Sister  Hattie  Jones, 
who  was  busily  threading  her  needle. 

"You  don't  mean  it?"  answered  Rachel  Win- 
throp.  "I  really  thought  he  was  going  to  'play 
off'  on  her  and  marry  Ellie." 

"I  don't  know  how  you  could  think  that,  Aunt 
Rachel,"  said  Ellen,  a  trifle  sharply ;  "I  have  never 
had  the  least  notion  of  trying  to  cut  Luna  out,  and 
my  friendship  for  Tom  was  of  the  most  platonic 
nature,  I  assure  you." 

Mrs.  Jones  saw  she  had  made  a  mistake,  and 
to  cover  her  confusion,  she  began  on  another  sub- 
ject. 

"Our  Mark  says  that  these  soldiers  are  getting 


280       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

pretty  impudent  around  here.  He  says  he  has 
seen  an  officer  riding  around  this  ward  in  a  sleigh 
every  night  for  the  last  three  weeks.  And  he  says, 
top,  that  this  stranger  had  one  of  our  girls  with 
him,  for  he  saw  her  get  out  one  night,  and  he  de- 
clares it  is  one  of  the  girls  in  our  ward.  But  he 
won't  tell  who ;  he  is  going  to  get  a  better  look  at 
the  girl,  he  says,  before  he  tells  anyone  who  it  is. 
I  declare  I  don't  see  what  our  silly  girls  are  think- 
ing of,  to  run  around  with  these  soldiers,  who 
will  ruin  them  as  quick  as  a  wink,  and  then  if  they 
felt  like  it,  they  would  shoot  'em  besides." 

Diantha  looked  in  quick  surprise  at  Ellen,  the 
moment  this  story  began,  and  she  saw  with  in- 
finite alarm  the  sudden  flush  which  spread  over 
her  friend's  usually  pale  cheek ;  and  with  the  quick 
intuition  of  love,  she  divined  that  Ellen  was  the 
guilty  girl.  What  on  earth  could  she  do?  The 
talk  drifted  on  and  on,  and  Diantha  listened  and 
kept  her  intent,  loving  gaze  fixed  upon  the  droop- 
ing eyes  of  her  beloved  friend.  The  two  girls 
cleaned  up  the  supper  dishes.  Ellen  talked  with 
rapid  garrulity,  as  if  to  prevent  a  single  word 
being  said  by  her  companion.  At  last,  when 
bedtime  came,  Diantha  said,  as  calmly  and  as  in- 
differently as  she  could : 

"I  believe  I'll  stay  all  night  with  you,  Ellie 
darling,  for  Aunt  Clara  is  going  out  again  tonight, 
she  says,  to  nurse  the  sick;  she  has  to  go  out  so 
much,  doesn't  she?  But  what  would  we  do  with- 


DIANTHA'S  SUDDEN  AWAKENING    281 

out  Aunt  Clara?  She  is  a  whole  Relief  Society 
of  herself,  isn't  she?  You  and  I  haven't  had  a 
good  talk  since  Christmas." 

"Well,  all  right.  But,"  the  girl  added  hesitat- 
ingly, "I'm  afraid  we'll  have  to  sleep  three  in  a 
bed,  for  Aunt  Clara  has  sent  Cousin  Alice  to  sleep 
with  me  tonight." 

"Never  mind,"  cheerfully  responded  Diantha, 
resolved  not  to  be  balked  in  her  endeavor  to  know 
more  about  her  friend's  walks  and  ways;  "I  can 
easily  do  that,  for  I  often  have  extra  company, 
and  you  and  I  don't  mind  crowding  a  bit." 

The  girls  hurried  up  to  their  room,  soon  after 
the  evening  prayers  were  over,  and  Diantha 
looked  in  vain  for  a  third  bedfellow.  But  she  re- 
frained from  asking  where  the  invisible  Alice  was, 
for  she  instinctively  felt  that  Ellen  had  lied  to  her 
to  make  an  excuse  to  prevent  the  talk  Diantha  had 
resolved  to  have  with  her  friend.  Dian  was  a  wise 
girl,  and  she  felt  instinctively  that  it  would  not  be 
prudent  to  urge  herself  upon  her  friend's  confi- 
dence. So  she  chatted  on  other  topics,  and  they 
were  soon  undressed  and  in  bed.  For  some  rea- 
son, Dian  felt  unusually  wakeful,  and  she  lay  for 
a  long  time  awake,  with  a  curious  feeling,  a  sort 
of  expectancy  of  something,  or  somebody,  which 
made  the  chills  of  uncomfortable  fear  race  up  and 
down  her  back.  But  at  last  she  fell  asleep,  trying 
dimly  to  account  for  her  strange  sensations,  and 
wondering  vaguely  who  was  coming.  Sometime 


282       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

in  the  night  she  awoke,  half-startled,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment she  was  conscious,  wide  awake,  and  in  per- 
fect control  of  her  faculties.  It  was  the  com- 
plete instant  wakefulness  which  comes  to  mothers 
with  sick  children,  or  to  men  who  watch  their 
homes  and  loved  ones  in  times  of  danger!  She 
wondered  for  one  brief  instant  why  she  was  not 
in  her  own  room,  and  then  it  flashed  over  her. 
She  reached  out  her  hand,  and  although  she  was 
in  some  way  curiously  prepared  for  it,  she  found 
her  companion  not  at  her  side,  and  she  felt  all  the 
shock  of  surprised  dread  which  that  discovery 
would  necessarily  entail.  She  lay  still  a  moment, 
trying  to  persuade  herself  that  Ellen  had  gone 
down  stairs  for  a  drink,  or  that  she  had  gone  into 
Aunt  Clara's  room,  for  some  purpose,  and  at  last 
she  called  out  softly: 

"Ellie,  Ellie,  dear!" 

No  answer  came,  and  she  was  about  to  get  up 
and  find  a  light,  when  she  heard  the  front  door 
open,  and  directly  after,  the  sound  of  hurried, 
muffled  footsteps  running  up  the  stairs  to  her 
room,  and  she  knew  instinctively  who  it  was. 

"Ellen?"  she  said  at  once,  as  soon  as  the  door 
opened. 

"Yes,"  came  the  breathless  answer,  from  out  the 
darkness. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  was  Dian's  rather 
stern  question. 


DIANTHA'S  SUDDEN  AWAKENING    283 

"Down  stairs  after  some  oil.  I  have  a  sore 
throat." 

That  was  the  second  lie  her  friend  had  told  her 
that  night.  Dian  knew  it  would  be  useless  to  try 
to  learn  anything  further,  for  more  questions 
would  only  bring  more  lies,  and  she  dreaded  to 
hear  another.  It  hurt  her  that  her  beloved  Ellen 
should  feel  it  possible  to  tell  lies  to  anyone  or  for 
any  purpose. 

Dian  could  hear  in  the  darkness  the  swift  mo- 
tions of  the  girl  unrobing,  and  she  rashly  tried 
another  question: 

"What  on  earth  did  you  dress  for,  Ellie,  just  to 
go  down  stairs  after  oil?" 

"Would  you  like  to  run  all  over  the  house  such 
a  bitter  cold  night  as  this  without  any  clothes 
on?"  sharply  asked  Ellen. 

Dian  lay  still  after  that,  realizing  how  hopeless 
it  was  to  think  of  probing  the  confidence  of  the 
girl  she  had  driven  away  from  her  by  her  ab- 
stractions and  neglect. 

Dian's  thoughts  were  bitter  and  remorseful. 
She  could  see  now  how  at  times  she  had  paid  lit- 
tle attention  to  the  affectionate  girl  by  her  side, 
and  how  often  she  had  allowed  their  confidences 
to  remain  unspoken  when  she  herself  was  ab- 
sorbed in  some  more  congenial  pursuit.  She  saw, 
too,  her  own  thoughtless  selfishness — was  it  self- 
ishness? Dian  was  loath  to  admit  that  it  was 
selfishness  on  her  part  which  had  driven  Ellen  to 


284       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

seek  for  friendship  and  confidence  where  it  was 
given  more  freely.  Was  she,  Dian,  really  selfish? 
Or  was  she  just  self-absorbed?  And  which  was 
which?  Whichever  it  might  be,  Dian  felt  she 
could  never  again  be  so  self-centered.  She  must 
think  of  others  more,  and  of  her  own  life  less.  As 
to  who  had  gained  this  confidence,  even  Dian 
dared  not  think.  Neither  of  the  girls  could  sleep, 
both  were  too  agitated  for  repose.  But  neither 
felt  to  break  the  strained  silence  between  them. 

"I  heard  today  at  the  rag-bee,  Ellen,"  said 
Dian  at  last,  gently,  "that  John  Stevens  was  com- 
ing home  from  that  trip  into  the  north  country. 
If  he  is  here  tomorrow  night,  we  will  have  him 
over  to  our  house,  and  have  a  candy-pulling." 

"You'd  better  have  him  all  to  yourself,  Diantha, 
for  that  will  please  both  of  you,  and  I  guess  it  will 
hurt  nobody  else." 

Ellen  spoke  in  so  low  and  bitter  a  tone,  that 
Dian  felt  unable  to  say  anything  more  until  she 
had  fathomed  the  reason  for  such  anger. 

"What  has  John,  or  what  have  I  done  that  you 
should  speak  like  that,  Ellie?" 

"Done?  Done  nothing,  I  guess!"  still  bitterly. 
"But  it  didn't  take  any  smartness  or  particular 
discernment  to  see  what  was  going  on  between 
you  two  at  the  Christmas  ball.  I  can  see  as  far 
through  a  mill-stone  as  anyone  else,  as  your  sis- 
ter-in-law Rachel  says." 

Diantha  was  silenced. 


DIANTHA'S  SUDDEN  AWAKENING    285 

What  could  it  mean ;  Ellen  Tyler  sarcastic,  bit- 
ter, and  deceitful?  What  did  it  all  mean?  Di- 
antha  lay  quite  still,  but  she  could  not  sleep.  Her 
past  life  and  her  own  faults  came  before  her  with 
startling  vividness  and  she  felt  that  in  some  re- 
spects she  had  been  a  sorry  failure.  She  hated 
herself  for  all  the  thoughtless  disregard  for  other 
people's  feelings  which  had  at  times  hurt  her  best 
friends.  And  she  knew,  too,  that  within  herself 
there  lay  a  wealth  of  devoted  self-sacrifice  at  the 
roots  of  her  soul.  Life  was  at  last  assuming  an 
impersonal  attitude  to  this  awakening  heart. 

What  about  Ellen?  One  thing  Dian  knew,  and 
that  was  that  Ellen  had  really  liked  John  Stevens, 
and  what  did  her  bitter  anger  and  her  sarcasm 
at  herself  mean?  She  concluded  that  Ellen  was 
jealous  of  her.  Jealous !  jealous  of  her,  Diantha ! 
What,  then?  What  had  she  done  to  make  her 
jealous?  To  think  that  they  two  should  be  at 
loggerheads  over  big,  silent  John  Stevens!  She 
herself  had  always  openly  declared  that  she  never 
could  love  a  red-bearded  man.  Well,  John's  hair 
was  fine  and  wavy  and  it  was  rich  brown,  any 
one  could  see  that.  But  his  long  silken  beard !  As 
she  thought  about  it,  it  really  seemed  to  her  to  be 
not  so  bad  either.  The  heroes  in  the  few  novels 
and  theaters  she  had  read  and  witnessed  all  had 
mustaches,  silken  mustaches.  None  of  them  were 
pictured  with  long  beards.  That  was  for  old  men 
and  farmers.  However,  there  was  something  har- 


286       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

monious  in  the  long  beard  of  the  tall,  silent  John 
Stevens.  As  she  reached  this  point,  the  girl  beside 
her  sighed  a  deep,  heavy,  heart-sad  sigh,  which 
struck  Dian  as  very  unusual,  especially  with 
sunny  Ellen  Tyler. 

What  was  Ellen  sighing  for?  Oh,  yes,  she 
was  jealous  of  her  and  John  Stevens.  Well,  what 
would  she,  Diantha,  do  about  it?  She  resented 
the  suggestion  which  came  into  her  mind,  that 
she  would  show  forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance 
for  all  her  past  selfishness  by  now  being  supreme- 
ly unselfish,  and  giving  up  every  hope  of  John 
Stevens.  Then  there  flashed  into  her  mind  the  at- 
tentions which  that  wicked  soldier  had  been  pay- 
ing on  the  sly  to  Ellen ;  and  now  that  she  thought 
of  it,  why,  of  course  that  was  where  Ellen  had 
been  that  night.  And  that  was  the  reason  that  she 
herself  had  felt  so  strangely  when  she  awoke. 
Ellen  was  in  danger,  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
Spirit  and  her  natural  instinct  had  warned  her  of 
her  friend's  danger.  Ellen  had  been  out  with 
him!  Now  that  she  was  in  possession  of  the 
whole  fearful  secret  what  should  she  do? 

Another  deep  sigh  by  her  side  made  Dian  turn 
swiftly  over,  and  putting  her  arms  around  the  girl, 
she  drew  her  to  her  and  as  Ellen  burst  into  a  fit  of 
passionate  weeping,  Diantha  stroked  her  hair  and 
soothed  her  without  asking  questions  or  attempt- 
ing to  pry  into  the  confidence  of  the  sobbing  girl. 
Diantha  knew  that  forced  confidence  is  neither 


DIANTHA'S  SUDDEN  AWAKENING    287 

full  nor  satisfactory.  Ellen  sobbed  herself  to 
sleep,  after  which  Diantha  did  some  very  serious 
thinking.  She  made  her  decision  at  last,  and  then 
with  a  deep  sigh  from  her  own  heart,  she  fell  into 
a  broken,  restless  sleep,  which  morning  broke  with 
a  glad  release. 

What  that  resolve  was,  was  shadowed  forth  in 
her  next  meeting  with  John  Stevens. 


XXX 

DIAN  IS  TRUE  TO  HER  RESOLVE 

T  happened  that  when  she  came  out  of 
her  home  to  attend  her  Sabbath  services 
the  next  Sunday,  she  found  tall,  silent 
John  Stevens  on  her  doorstep,  with  a  pe- 
culiar look  in  his  eyes  and  a  very  fine  new  suit 
of  homespun  gray  clothing  his  tall  form. 

"Oh,"  she  gasped.  Then  as  with  a  sudden  im- 
pulse, "Come  on,  I  am  going  to  get  Ellie  as  I  go 
along.  She  must  go  to  meeting  with  us  this  morn- 
ing." 

Now,  as  John  had  not  seen  Diantha  since  the 
memorable  ball,  and  as  he  had  certainly  expected 
to  get  a  greeting  all  his  own  without  the  mention 
of  anybody  else,  he  saw  occasion  to  be  very  much 
surprised,  if  not  a  little  annoyed.  But  as  usual 
he  said  nothing,  and  they  walked  along,  Diantha 
laughing  with  a  quick,  metallic  sound,  as  if  she 
were  very  happy  or  as  if  she  were  trying  to  con- 
ceal some  undercurrent  of  emotion.  John  chose 
to  interpret  her  looks  and  her  manner  to  mean  a 
rebuff  to  him,  but  he  was  slow  to  anger,  and  not 
easily  disconcerted,  so  they  strode  merrily  along 
the  frozen  path. 

Ellen  was  very  much  surprised  to  see  them 


DIAN  IS  TRUE  TO  HER  RESOLVE      289 

enter  her  door,  and  she  refused  at  first  to  go  with 
them  to  church,  as  she  had  not  made  ready  there- 
for, nor  did  she  care  to  go.  Diantha  would  not 
hear  any  excuses,  and  carried  Ellen  upstairs,  to 
prepare  hurriedly  for  the  services. 

As  they  approached  the  old — but  then  new — 
Tabernacle  in  the  southwest  corner  of  the  Temple 
block,  they  could  hear  the  organ's  strains,  accom- 
panied by  the  united  voices  of  the  choir,  as  they 
sang  the  opening  hymn.  They  were  too  late  to 
enter  till  after  the  prayer,  and  so  they  stood  out- 
side on  the  step,  and,  as  they  stood  there,  they 
saw  several  officers  approaching  the  door  as  if  to 
enter  the  sacred  building. 

John  at  once  stepped  up  to  them  and  inquired 
casually : 

"Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you,  gentlemen?" 

"We  wish  to  attend  your  divine  service  this 
morning,"  replied  Colonel  Saxey,  "and  we  presume 
it  will  not  be  offensive,  as  we  wish  merely  to 
listen  to  your  beautiful  choir,  of  which  we  have 
heard  so  many  complimentary  things." 

"Certainly,  sir,  you  will  be  welcome."  But  out 
of  John's  eyes  there  flashed  a  gleam  of  hatred  and 
suspicion  toward  one  of  the  officers  who  lingered 
in  the  background.  It  was  none  other  than  Cap- 
tain Sherwood.  Sherwood  caught  the  look  and  at 
once  was  on  his  guard ;  with  consummate  skill  he 
directed  his  glances  and  his  whole  attention  to  Di- 
antha. She  returned  his  looks  of  admiration  with 

19 


m       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

cold,  proud  contempt,  and  she  even  went  so  far 
as  to  force  herself  between  him  and  Ellen  as  they 
all  passed  up  the  aisle. 

John  saw  Captain  Sherwood  cast  glances  of 
admiration  towards  Diantha  Winthrop,  and  he 
saw,  too,  that  she  forced  herself  in  between  Ellen 
and  Sherwood,  but  he  failed  to  see  the  expres- 
sion on  Diantha's  face.  What  wonder,  then,  that 
he  drew  a  wrong  conclusion?  After  this,  his  whole 
thought  was  centered  upon  watching  the  soldier, 
and  he  heard  nothing  of  the  eloquent  sermon 
preached  by  Elder  Heber  C.  Kimball.  And  very 
little  did  he  hear  of  the  really  fine  singing  by 
the  splendid  choir  of  fifty  voices  led  by  Prof.  C.  J. 
Thomas,  accompanied  as  it  was  by  the  tender, 
tuneful  playing  of  that  most  beautiful  and  accom- 
plished of  all  President  Young's  pretty  daughters, 
Fanny  Young. 

Before  the  services  were  half  over  the  offi- 
cers withdrew,  and  John  quietly  took  up  his  hat 
and  followed  them  out.  He  never  lost  sight  of 
them  until  they  were  mounted  on  their  horses  and 
well  out  of  town.  John  wondered  what  they  had 
come  to  town  for,  but  he  was  sure  of  one  thing, 
and  that  was  that  Diantha  Winthrop  had  once 
more  changed  her  fickle  mind.  Well,  John  was  as 
proud  as  he  was  silent,  and  he  stroked  his  beard 
with  long,  gentle  passes,  as  he  reflected  upon  life 
and  its  uncertain  meaning  for  him. 

The  weeks  flew  by,  filled  with  excitement,  par- 


DIAN  IS  TRUE  TO  HER  RESOLVE      291 

ties,  false  rumors  of  danger,  and  then  again  a  few 
days'  quiet  would  give  the  city  a  needed  rest  and 
comparative  peace. 

Diantha  kept  so  firmly  to  her  resolve  that  John 
Stevens  could  not  secure  her  hand,  even  for  a 
quadrille  at  a  dance,  as  she  was  always  just  en- 
gaged. She  would  not  allow  him  to  speak  to  her 
one  moment  in  private,  and  this  so  successfully 
turned  his  attention  to  Ellen  Tyler  that  she 
breathed  freely  and  felt  that  the  sacrifice  had  been 
accepted  and  that  her  friend  was  saved. 


XXXI 

JOHN  ALSO  RESOLVES 

a  HE  early  spring  had  begun  to  clothe  the 
towering  mountain  steeps  with  spotted 
robes  of  brown,  gray  and  green ;  over  the 
distant  summits,  the  fleecy  wind-clouds 
were  torn  and  draggled  as  they  trailed  their  white 
skirts  across  the  sharp  edges  of  the  mountain 
tops.  Out  on  the  hills  peeped  the  lovely  rare 
bulb  that  the  pioneer  children  called  "sego-lily," 
and  here  and  there  nestled  the  early,  pink  star 
they  called  "Sweet  Williams ;"  and  rarer  still,  the 
tall,  intensely  blue  bulbous  flower  that  was  known 
as  "the  blue-bell,"  hid  its  precious  beauty  be- 
neath the  gray  walls  of  its  shrubby  friend  the 
sage  brush.  Everywhere  the  sego  lily  nodded 
with  its  golden  brown  heart  and  its  delicate,  pout- 
ing lips  of  creamy  white ;  while  children  ran  and 
laughed  and  quarreled  as  they  dug  the  mellow, 
luscious  root  they  called  in  the  Indian  tongue, 
"segoes." 

Boys  began  to  drive  the  sheep  from  the  valley 
winter  quarters  to  the  bunch-grass  covered  hills 
above;  the  herdsman  took  possession  of  his 
mountain  hut  beside  the  cold,  moss-covered 
spring,  perched  high  up  in  the  tiny  valleys  of  the 
upper  mountain  peaks.  Out  on  the  hills  was  heard 
the  tinkling  bell  of  the  sheep,  and  the  call  of  the 


JOHN  ALSO  RESOLVES  293 

herders  echoed  from  peak  to  peak  as  they  drove 
their  hungry  flocks  through  the  upper  vales.  The 
low,  dark  green  pastures  on  the  marshy  lands  be- 
gan to  throw  up  their  mellow  juices  into  feathery 
wild  oat  stems,  or  filled  the  reedy  grass  with  thin 
nectar  for  the  few  and  very  choice  cows  that 
waded  around  with  slow  pleasure  in  the  Jordan 
meadows. 

Down  by  the  Jordan's  banks  the  boys  watched 
the  cows  through  the  early  spring  days,  occasion- 
ally plunging  into  the  cool  water  for  a  quick  swim, 
longing  for  the  hot  summer  days  when  hours 
could  be  spent  in  the  water  of  the  treacherous 
stream.  Here  and  there  a  stray  fisherman  threw 
his  rude  line  into  the  stream  and  occasionally 
caught  a  mountain  trout,  the  speckled  beauty  glis- 
tening like  silver  as  he  threw  it  upon  the  bank. 
At  break  of  day,  the  husbandman — and  who  was 
not  a  husbandman  in  those  early  pioneer  times  in 
these  valleys? — drove  his  team  afield — not  in  the 
mellow  soil  known  to  the  home  he  had  left  in  the 
East,  but  in  the  hard,  uncultivated  earth  of  cen- 
turies of  sun-baked,  rainless  summers,  down  in 
the  bosom  of  the  barren  valleys.  He  dug  out  the 
tall,  gray-spiked  sage  brush  and  huge,  flaunting 
sunflowers,  and  everywhere  he  trenched  his  land 
in  regular  lines  to  train  down  upon  it  the  cooling 
streams  which  gave  life  and  fertility  to  the  oth- 
erwise hopeless  soil. 

The  first  days  of  April  brought  the  annual  Con- 


294        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

ference,  and  everyone  in  Utah  laid  aside  work  and 
prepared  to  attend  the  great  three  days'  meeting. 
Men  in  the  city  brought  into  their  homes  great 
stores  of  flour  and  food  to  feed  the  visitors  who 
would  tarry  with  them  during  the  Conference. 
Women  cooked  meats  and  pastry,  washed  and 
ironed  sheets  and  quilts  and  filled  the  extra  straw 
ticks  to  make  temporary  beds  in  every  spare  cor- 
ner to  accommodate  their  usual  country  visitors. 

For  many  miles  on  all  the  country  roads  could 
be  seen  teams  of  all  descriptions  wending  their 
way  to  Conference.  A  few  horses,  some  mules, 
and  often  great  ox-teams  plodded  their  way  city- 
ward. Men,  women  and  little  children  cheerfully 
left  their  homes  and  comforts  to  take  chances  of 
any  kind  of  hospitality  for  the  privilege  of  attend- 
ing the  prized  semi-annual  religious  services. 

The  yard  of  the  Tithing  office  was  filled  with 
visiting  teams  and  wagons  of  every  description, 
and  busy  women  prepared  food  and  comfort  for 
the  hungry  multitude  gathered  there.  Children 
ran  about,  playing  at  hide-and-seek,  or  chased 
each  other  over  the  ground  amid  wheels  and 
wagon  tongues,  grouped  about  in  semi-confusion. 

It  was  rather  a  cold  and  damp  time,  therefore 
the  Tabernacle  was  well  warmed  for  the  people 
gathered  in  happy  groups  for  this  Friday  morn- 
ing. What  exchanges  of  greetings  were  there  as 
brother  met  brother  and  sister  greeted  sister! 
Months,  perhaps  years  had  elapsed  since  they  had 


JOHN  ALSO  RESOLVES  295 

seen  each  other.  Here  was  a  family  just  come 
over  from  the  "old  country"  standing  up  between 
the  benches  to  greet  the  throng  which  crowded 
about  them  to  shake  their  hands,  for  they  had 
been  good  to  the  "elders"  in  England,  and  every 
elder  wanted  to  take  them  by  the  hand  and  intro- 
duce them  to  his  family.  How  quaint  the  old 
English  pronunciation  sounded  on  those  newly 
imported  English  tongues,  and  how  queer  the 
children  looked  with  their  little  bare,  red  arms, 
and  their  low,  broad-toed  shoes  and  white  "pin- 
afores," and  how  it  made  the  Utah  children  laugh 
and  stare  to  be  told  by  these  recent  importations 
to  "give  over  now,  give  over;"  and  how  the  eld- 
er" would  smile  as  the  jolly  mother  of  the  new 
arrival  would  recall  his  words  and  ways  while 
amongst  them;  and  how  his  merry  eyes  would 
sadden  and  fill  with  tears  as  he  heard  the  story  of 
"our  Mary  who  had  died,"  or,  far  worse,  per- 
chance, had  apostatized  in  spite  of  all  teachings, 
and  who  had  been  left  behind  to  her  own  back- 
sliding ways!  What  great  slaps  were  bestowed 
upon  broad  backs  as  Brother  So-and-So  came  up 
behind  Brother  What's-His-Name  and  thus  an- 
nounced his  pleasure  at  greeting  his  old-time 
friend ! 

As  John  Stevens  entered  the  well-warmed  and 
cosy  building,  a  few  minutes  before  the  meeting 
was  called  to  order,  his  eye  involuntarily  became 
brighter  in  sympathy  with  the  merry  confusion 


296       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  bustle  which  he  witnessed  all  around  him. 
Everybody  was  standing  up  and  talking  to  every- 
body else,  while  on  the  distant  "stand"  the  elders 
were  indulging  in  the  same  friendly  and  informal 
greetings.  Crops,  the  weather,  babies,  death,  mar- 
riage, sermons,  soldiers,  war,  the  millennium,  new 
homespun  coats,  the  possible  advent  of  a  woolen 
mill  in  the  Teritory,  carpet  looms,  shoe  lasts, 
prospective  sawmills,  and  the  best  recipe  for  cook- 
ing dried  service-berries,  all  these  topics  buzzed 
in  endless  variety  and  confusion  around  the  well- 
filled  hall. 

But  hark!  all  eyes  are  turned  to  the  stand,  as 
Brigham  Young  is  heard  calling  the  people  to 
come  "to  order,"  and  instantly  all  voices  are 
stilled ;  the  groups  at  once  settle  down  into  regu- 
larity, and  the  thoughts  of  the  congregation  are 
fixed  upon  the  words  of  the  heartfelt  opening 
prayer  of  Elder  Chas.  C.  Rich. 

As  the  choir  began  its  second  hymn,  John 
turned  in  his  seat  to  see  if  Diantha  and  Ellen  were 
in  their  seats  in  the  choir.  Yes,  Diantha  stood 
there  with  her  lovely  form  clad  in  its  classical, 
simple  gown  of  homespun,  fitting  her  like  a 
molded  glove,  while  the  glorious  eyes  and  scarlet 
lips  were  as  beautiful  as  ever.  He  looked  at  her 
so  long,  and  as  she  was  unconscious  of  his  gaze, 
so  earnestly,  that  he  forgot  to  look  for  Ellen. 

After  the  hymn  was  over,  however,  he  remem- 
bered Ellen  and  he  soon  saw  that  her  place  among 


JOHN  ALSO  RESOLVES  297 

the  altos  was  vacant.  Where  was  Ellen?  he  won- 
dered ;  she  was  always  at  meeting. 

John  addressed  to  himself  some  very  severe 
reflections,  and  as  his  mind  left  his  own  affairs 
and  became  partly  absorbed  in  the  sermon  which 
Elder  Orson  Hyde  was  preaching,  he  gradual- 
ly became  conscious  that  he  had  formed  a  resolu- 
tion. That  resolution  was  to  forget  Diantha  Win- 
throp  as  speedily  as  possible. 

Now,  this  was  a  thing  which  John  had  never 
before  contemplated.  In  all  his  past  associations 
with  the  girl,  no  matter  what  coldness,  neglect  or 
discouragements  he  had  experienced,  he  had  never 
for  one  moment  despaired  of  some  day  winning 
her  for  his  wife.  He  knew  intuitively  something 
of  human  nature,  and  besides  that  he  had  felt  in 
the  depths  of  his  own  soul  a  whispering  assurance 
that  the  girl  belonged  to  him,  and  that  his  claim 
to  her  was  one  which  had  existed  before  they 
came  to  this  earth.  Therefore  he  had  quietly 
gone  along,  never  seeking  to  urge  himself  or  his 
attentions  upon  her  nor  indeed  upon  any  girl ;  he 
had  concealed  from  her  as  from  everyone  else  the 
secret  of  his  preference,  and  he  had  lived  for  years 
with  the  hope  in  his  heart  which  made  his  daily 
sunshine  and  sweetened  his  every  night  vision. 
Yet  now,  with  awakened  consciousness  on  his 
part,  he  found  himself  forming  an  invincible  res- 
olution never  again  to  permit  his  thoughts  or  his 
love  to  go  out  to  this  girl  who  had  given  him  at 


298       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

one  time  plain  encouragement,  and  who  had  since, 
for  no  reason  whatever,  turned  upon  him  a  colder, 
prouder  face  than  she  had  ever  done  in  the  old 
days  before  she  had  guessed  his  secret. 

He  sought,  with  the  old  Puritanic  inheritance 
of  self-investigation,  to  fathom  the  cause  of  this 
resolution.  He  found  his  mind  distracted  from  the 
sermon  which  had  been  so  interesting,  and  invol- 
untarily he  turned  around  to  look  at  Dian  herself 
to  see  what  expression  she  had  now  upon  her  face, 
and  to  see  if  perchance  her  looks  might  have  had 
something  to  do  with  this  strange  decision.  She 
looked  as  serene,  as  unconscious,  as  a  statue.  Her 
face  looked  slightly  weary,  as  if  she,  too,  had  lost 
interest  in  the  sermon,  and  her  thoughts  were  on 
something  else.  But  she  did  not  look  at  John,  and 
even  if  she  knew  where  he  sat,  she  seemed  to 
avoid  meeting  his  eyes. 

As  John's  gaze  left  her  witching  face,  and  his 
eyes  traveled  over  the  choir  seats,  he  observed  El- 
lie's  vacant  seat,  and  he  felt  suddenly  that  Ellie 
had  something  to  do  with  this  decision.  What 
and  how  did  Ellie  effect  this?  John  was  not  an 
impulsive  man,  his  thoughts  were  deep  and  rather 
slow  in  forming.  He  allowed  his  mind  to  play 
upon  this  thought  which  had  come  to  him,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  a  veritable  inspiration  flashed 
upon  him  that  Ellie  was  in  danger,  and  that  she 
needed  him.  He  had  no  superstitious  notion  that 
he  could  hear  Ellen  calling  him,  that  is  the  way 


JOHN  ALSO  RESOLVES  299 

he  would  have  put  it  to  himself;  yet  if  he  had 
been  a  more  imaginative  man,  he  would  have  said 
that  he  could  hear  her  voice  in  his  soul  plead- 
ing for  help  in  her  hour  of  extremest  peril. 

However  it  was,  he  was  so  strongly  impressed 
that  he  struggled  as  long  as  he  could  to  restrain 
the  feeling  which  gave  him  no  peace,  until  he 
finally  arose  and  went  out  of  the  meeting,  and 
hastened  down  to  the  home  of  the  Tylers,  and  in- 
quired for  Ellen.  Aunt  Clara  was  at  home,  get- 
ting dinner  for  the  rest  of  the  folks  who  had  gone 
to  meeting,  and  she  answered  his  knock  at  the 
door. 

"Ellie,  why,  she  is  not  well  this  morning,  and 
she  is  still  in  bed.  She  did  not  sleep  much  last 
night,  and  I  told  her  to  lie  still  this  morning,  and 
she  could  perhaps  go  to  meeting  this  afternoon." 

John  sat  and  chatted  a  while  with  his  old 
friend,  Aunt  Clara,  but  he  did  not  mention  the 
dreadful  impression  which  he  had  felt  that  morn- 
ing, and  he  told  himself  again  and  again  what  a 
silly  thing  it  was  for  him  to  give  way  to  such  no- 
tions. 

He  heard  later  from  Tom  Allen  that  Ellen  was 
at  the  afternoon  meeting  and  he  added  that  fact 
to  the  scolding  he  had  administered  that  morning 
to  himself,  and  assured  himself  that  there  was 
plenty  of  time  to  try  and  persuade  pretty  Ellen 
Tyler  to  accept  him  and  his  home  as  her  future 
destiny. 


XXXII 
"SOUR  GRAPES" 

FEW  hours  later,  just  in  the  cool  edge 
of  the  late  afternoon,  John  found  him- 
self eagerly  looking  over  some  new 
daguerreotypes  of  various  of  his  friends 
in  the  shop  of  Marcena  Cannon,  the  photograph- 
er, on  Main  Street.  He  was  so  busily  engaged  that 
he  did  not  notice  the  slight  noisy  wrangle  of  some 
drunken  men  on  the  street  until  he  saw  a  group  of 
them  darken  the  small  doorway  of  the  tiny  shop. 
As  his  glance  caught  the  fact  that  they  were  sol- 
diers, he  withdrew  into  the  shadow  and  waited  for 
developments.  He  was  unwilling  to  embroil  him- 
self with  these  men,  and  yet  he  had  caught  sight 
of  the  dissolute  face  of  Captain  Sherwood  in  the 
crowd,  and  John  remained  to  watch. 

"Hello,  Mr.  Cannon,"  cried  the  tipsy  captain, 
"we  want  our  pictures  taken.  Can  you  take  the 
picture  of  a  gentleman  as  well  as  the  ugly  mugs 
of  these  d — d  Mormons?" 

The  face  of  the  photographer  was  drawn  into  a 
sneer  of  contempt  for  the  insult  thus  offered  him- 
self and  his  associates,  but  he  only  said: 

"Men  in  my  profession  must  be  as  willing  to 
try  their  hands  at  painting  a  fool  as  they  are  to 


"SOUR  GRAPES"  301 

take  the  likeness  of  an  honest  man.  Are  there* 
any  honest  men  in  your  party  who  want  to  pose 
before  my  camera?" 

For  answer  the  captain  only  leered  about  the 
shop,  pausing  unsteadily  before  first  one  picture 
and  then  another;  finally  he  caught  sight  of  a 
large  daguerreotype  of  President  Brigham  Young, 
done  by  the  enterprising  pioneer  photographer 
Marcena  Cannon.  Steadying  himself  in  front  of 
this  picture,  Sherwood  raised  his  pistol,  and 
shot  through  it,  the  bullet  embedding  itself  in 
the  wall  behind.  His  marksmanship  was  so  un- 
steady that  only  the  corner  of  the  canvas  was 
riddled;  but  the  soldiers  surrounded  their  cap- 
tain at  once,  fearing  that  his  overt  act  might  pre- 
cipitate some  trouble.  Sherwood  yelled  out  as  his 
shot  rang  into  the  dim  silence  of  the  room : 

"That's  the  way  I'd  serve  the  old  scoundrel  if  I 
could  get  him  in  the  same  place." 

Instantly  the  room  filled  with  street-loungers, 
although  the  sound  was  no  unusual  one  in  those 
unhappy  Salt  Lake  days.  As  the  smoke  cleared 
away,  Captain  Sherwood  found  himself  looking 
down  the  muzzle  of  John  Stevens'  own  revolver, 
while  a  cool,  grating  voice  hissed  in  his  ear: 

"Git  out,  vermin." 

The  soldier,  sobered  by  his  own  folly,  found  his 
small  squad  of  men  were  vastly  outnumbered  by 
the  civilian  police  who  now  crowded  into  the 
tiny  room,  and  without  further  parley  he  as- 


302        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

sumed  a  braggart  air,  and  swaggered  out  of  the 
place. 

"  'He  who  runs  away',"  quoth  Charlie  Rose, 
who  was  at  John's  elbow  by  this  time,  "  'may  live 
to  fight  another  day.'  But  then  again  he  may 
not.  You  don't  can't  sometimes  always  tell.  Lit- 
tle Captain  Sherwood  may  reach  the  place  of  his 
own  seeking  sooner  than  he  anticipates." 

The  incident  only  served  the  better  to  reveal  the 
unprincipled  character  of  a  man  whom  already 
poor  John  hated  with  a  righteous  vigor. 

As  the  drunken  captain,  now  somewhat  sobered 
by  his  recent  escapade,  clanked  noisily  down  Main 
Street,  followed  by  his  squad,  he  saw  Diantha, 
clad  in  her  usual  comely  habit,  coming  toward 
him.  Instantly  alert  to  any  possible  results  of 
this  chance  encounter,  Captain  Sherwood  straight- 
ened himself,  and  endeavored  to  assume  his  usual 
elegant  swagger.  But  if  he  had  removed  the 
traces  of  his  recent  debauch  from  his  walk,  it  still 
lingered  in  the  dusky  flame  which  burned  in 
cheeks  and  chin,  and  above  all  there  still  glittered 
in  the  dusk  of  his  leering  eyes  that  signal  of  dan- 
ger which  thrills  every  weak  human  creature  who 
beholds  that  black  flag.  Captain  Sherwood  sober 
had  much  to  recommend  him  to  polite  society — 
but  Captain  Sherwood  drunk  betrayed  the  devil 
within  him.  Drunk  or  sober,  he  was  the  acme  of 
grace,  and  it  was  with  customary  lightness  that 
he  swept  off  his  blue  cap  and  carrying  it  to  his 


"SOUR  GRAPES"  303 

heart  he  bowed  low  with  exaggerated  politeness 
to  the  frightened  girl,  now  opposite  him. 

With  small  trace  of  the  raging  fear  within  her, 
the  girl  turned  her  head  proudly  away,  and  with 
a  slight  motion  of  mingled  fear  and  disgust  she 
drew  her  skirts  aside  as  if  to  avoid  possible  con- 
tact, and  walked  coldly  on,  leaving  a  short,  dis- 
mayed silence  behind  her,  as  the  men  watched 
with  common  interest  this  second  rout  of  their 
dissolute  companion  and  superior  officer. 

"You  won't  speak  to  me  ?"  the  captain  muttered 
thickly  to  himself;  "well,  my  tragedy  queen,  I 
know  somebody  who  will." 

To  his  men  he  only  gave  the  word  of  command 
and  the  party  were  soon  astride  of  their  horses 
and  riding  rapidly  into  the  south. 

It  was  Diantha's  first  experience  with  such  evil 
forces ;  and  after  she  was  well  out  of  sight  she  flew 
to  her  home,  with  her  heart  clamoring  at  her 
throat  for  swift  release.  Flinging  herself  down 
upon  her  knees  she  buried  her  face  in  her  pillow 
as  she  sobbed  out  her  broken  prayers  to  that  liv- 
ing Father  whose  tender  protection  she  had  never 
before  sought  with  such  abject  humility.  After 
her  heart  had  ceased  to  pound  in  her  neck,  she 
scolded  herself  for  a  stupid  coward  of  a  girl — to 
be  frightened  in  broad  daylight,  and  on  Main 
Street,  where  there  were  plenty  of  good  men  to 
protect  her  in  case  of  real  danger.  Fright  has  no 
reason,  has  only  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear  the 


304       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

nameless  possibilities  which  sweep  the  spirit  out 
into  formless  space.  Presently  the  still  small  voice 
of  reason  reached  her  consciousness,  and  as 
thought  settled  quietly  down  upon  its  throne  in 
her  troubled  soul,  the  question  flashed  along  her 
mind:  "Why  is  that  man  hanging  around  Great 
Salt  Lake  City  so  often  of  late?"  Then— "Ellen?" 
was  questioned  and  answered  in  a  second  illumi- 
nating thrill  of  pain. 

Without  another  moment's  hesitation,  Diantha 
sprang  up,  bathed  her  face,  and  the  fear  that  had 
oppressed  her  for  her  own  safety  was  transferred 
to  her  friend. 

Ellen  was  churning  in  her  cool,  quiet  buttery. 
She  greeted  Diantha  coldly,  then  bade  her  bring 
a  chair  for  herself  from  the  kitchen. 

"No,  I  will  stand,"  answered  Dian,  too  excited 
yet  to  talk  calmly.  "I  have  had  such  a  fright!" 
And  she  proceeded  to  relate  her  recent  experi- 
ences, not  adding  to  nor  taking  from  one  single 
point;  the  truth  was  brutal  enough  to  this  shel- 
tered, pure-minded,  unsophisticated  girl.  With 
that  awful  truth  she  had  come  to  warn  and  shield 
her  dearest  friend. 

Ellen  listened  with  her  brooding  eyes  fixed  upon 
her  frothing  churn-dash.  When  the  story  was 
fairly  told,  she  offered  no  word  of  comment. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  asked  Dian,  anx- 
ious to  obtain  her  friend's  point  of  view. 

"I  don't  think  anything,"  Ellen  said,  at  last. 


"SOUR  GRAPES"  305 

"Why,  Ellie,  he  was  dead  drunk." 

"How  could  you  tell  such  a  thing  as  that?" 
asked  Ellen,  judicially.  "What  do  you  or  I  know 
about  drunken  men?" 

"Oh,  his  eyes,  and  his  red  face — and — and — 
everything — "  stammered  Diantha,  confused  to  be 
thus  put  at  a  disadvantage,  and  upon  the  witness- 
stand.  "And  there  was  something  so  terrible 
about  him  every  way  that  I  just  shuddered  when 
he  looked  into  my  eyes." 

Still  Ellen  refused  to  discuss  the  matter.  Dian 
persisted : 

"You  can't  think  what  a  fright  I  was  in.  If  you 
could  have  just  seen  him — " 

The  sullen  listener  busied  herself  with  her 
churn.  And  at  last,  she  sat  down  to  work  over 
her  butter. 

"Ellie,"  coaxed  Diantha,  "what  do  you  think 
about  the  thing,  anyway?" 

The  weak,  delicate  character  of  the  love-sick 
Ellen  had  been  turned  from  its  own  natural  candid 
sweetness  into  the  gall  of  secretive  obstinacy,  by 
her  concealed  passion ;  and  when  she  was  thus  ad- 
jured, she  simply  raised  her  dash  to  clean  off  the 
remaining  globes  of  gold,  as  she  said,  tartly: 

"If  you  want  to  know  what  I  think  about  you, 
Dianthy  Winthrop,  I'll  tell  you — 'sour  grapes' !" 

Diantha  was  too  frankly  surprised  for  a  moment 
to  do  aught  but  stare  stupidly  at  the  lowered  face 
opposite  her.  Then  suddenly  comprehending,  she 

20 


306        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

said  icily,  her  lips  drawing  into  a  sharp  line  across 
her  face: 

"Do  you  think  I  have  made  up  all  this  story? 
That  I  am  jealous?  Jealous  of  a  vile,  wicked  sol- 
dier? Oh,  Ellen,  you  surely  can't  think  such  a 
terrible  thing  as  that!" 

"Would  it  be  the  first  time  you've  been  jealous 
of  me?"  asked  the  girl.  Dian's  truthful  memory 
received  this  home-thrust  in  silence;  but  she  was 
not  thus  to  be  thrown  from  her  purpose. 

"But,  Ellen,  he  was  drunk !  Drunk,  I  tell  you ! 
And  he  is  not  fit  to  wipe  your  shoes  on." 

"Sour  grapes,"  muttered  the  scornful  lips  of  the 
girl  before  her. 

"Ellen  Tyler,  I  came  here  with  an  honest  desire 
to  give  you  a  friendly  warning.  I  don't  imagine 
for  one  moment  that  you  need  it  any  more  than  I 
do,  or  that  you  are  not  just  as  good  and  just  as 
wise  as  I  am — maybe  more  so.  But  I  am  begin- 
ning to  see  things  as  they  are:  the  glamor  and 
glory  and  romance  which  once  so  fascinated  me  is 
fading  away,  thank  God — anyway  as  it  relates  to 
men  who  drink  and  carouse  or  who  do  wrong. 
And  especially  do  I  begin  to  see  how  unsafe  we 
are  associating  with  any  man  outside  this  Church 
and  kingdom.  I  have  done  my  best  to  warn  you, 
as  Aunt  Clara  and  my  brother  have  warned  us 
both  time  and  time  again.  We  are  two  orphaned 
girls,  but  God  has  sent  us  repeated  warnings 
through  our  best  friends  and  guardians  to  listen 


"SOUR  GRAPES"  307 

and  obey.  We  girls  may  or  may  not  come  to 
harm  when  we  follow  our  own  path,  but  we  can 
never  come  to  a  good  end  if  we  disobey  the 
counsels  of  those  who  have  a  right  to  give  us  such 
counsel.  I  am  going  to  try  and  heed  that  warn- 
ing counsel.  I  dare  not  disobey.  It  is  bred  in 
my  very  bone  to  give  heed  to  the  voice  of  wisdom. 
I  felt  a  strong  impression  that  you  needed  this 
warning,  too,  and  I  have  given  it.  I  think  now 
that  I  shall  go  to  Aunt  Clara  and  tell  her  exactly 
what  I  have  told  you." 

Ellen's  eyes  lifted  quickly.  But  with  the  sub- 
tle deceit  of  a  weak,  inwardly-selfish  soul  she  said, 
smoothly : 

"Don't  bother  to  tell  Aunt  Clara,  Dian.  You 
have  told  me,  and  I  will  remember  all  you  say. 
It  might  only  worry  Aunt  Clara  when  there  is  no 
need." 

Only  half  convinced,  but  wholly  appeased  by 
this  seeming  flag  of  truce,  Diantha  chatted  with 
her  friend  awhile  on  indifferent  things  and  then 
went  away,  resolved  to  seek  some  convenient  op- 
portunity after  the  Conference  was  well  over  to 
have  a  long  talk  with  Aunt  Clara. 

Alas,  that  we  wait  for  these  laggard  opportuni- 
ties, instead  of  boldly  going  out  to  meet  them  in 
the  highway!  It  is  well  to  consider  well  before 
we  do  evil,  but  good  should  be  done  on  the  im- 
pulse. 

The  next  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  Ellen 


308       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

was  at  her  post  in  the  choir,  and  John  hurried 
home  from  meeting  at  noon  to  make  arrangements 
with  a  friend  to  take  his  place  in  the  evening  so 
that  he  could  spend  that  Sunday  evening  visiting 
with  Ellen. 

All  afternoon  he  gently  forced  his  mind  to 
dwell  solely  and  wholly  upon  the  real  sweetness 
and  charm  of  pretty  Ellen  Tyler.  He  fancied  what 
a  dear  little  wife  she  would  make  and  he  drew 
all  sorts  of  domestic  pictures  of  what  home  with 
such  a  fond  little  wife  would  be.  He  knew  she 
was  good,  true,  lovely,  and  although  weak  in  some 
points,  he  was  sure  that  marriage  would  give  her 
all  the  strength  and  force  necessary  for  her  per- 
fection as  a  woman  and  as  a  saint.  Yes,  John 
had  decided  to  marry — not  Dian  Winthrop,  but 
sweet,  impulsive,  pretty  Ellen  Tyler — if  he  could 
get  her !  If  he  could !  Ah,  if  he  only  could ! 


XXXIII 
WHERE  IS  ELLEN? 

S  the  chill  evening  closed  in  that  Sabbath 
night  when  the  city  was  stilled  of  all  its 
Conference  bustle, — for  Conference  had 
been  adjourned  to  meet  again  in  six 
months — John  Stevens  hurried  down  to  spend  the 
quiet  evening  hours  with  Ellen  Tyler.  He  had 
resolved  to  ask  her  to  be  his  wife,  and  if  she 
happily  consented,  he  should  insist  that  no  delays 
of  months  or  even  weeks  were  necessary,  but  the 
sweet  June  month,  not  far  away  with  its  rose- 
blown  days  and  its  fragrant,  mellow  nights,  should 
see  their  wedding  day  with  its  tender  promise  of 
loving  reality. 

"Well,  Aunt  Clara,"  he  said  to  that  good  lady, 
"I  am  here  again,  you  see.  Who  comes  so  often 
as  I  do?" 

"No  one  that  is  half  so  welcome,"  she  answered 
gently,  with  her  kindly  smile.  "Come  right  in, 
John,  and  let  me  take  your  hat." 

"How  are  you  all,  Aunt  Clara,  and  I  suppose  I 
may  as  well  out  with  it:  where  is  Ellie?" 

"We  are  well,  John,  and  so  is  Ellie.  She  got 
over  her  little  sick  spell  all  right,  and  went  to 
meeting  this  morning.  But  she  is  not  at  home  to- 
night, nor  will  she  be  for  a  few  days.  I  let  her  go 


310       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

home  with  the  Meachams,  who  live  in  Provo,  you 
know.  I  have  had  to  be  away  from  home  so 
much  this  winter  and  spring,  nursing  the  sick, 
that  Ellen  has  been  real  lonesome.  I  felt  a  little 
sorry  to  let  her  go,  for  I  don't  like  our  girls  away 
from  home  these  times.  However,  you  know  I 
can't  always  have  my  way,  and  Ellen  teased  so 
long,  and  Brother  Meacham  said  he  would  be  very 
careful  of  her,  and  as  she  promised  to  be  back  in- 
side of  two  weeks,  I  just  had  to  let  her  go." 

"Where  did  the  Meachams  stay,  while  they 
were  here,  Aunt  Clara?  Did  they  put  up  with 
you?" 

"Oh,  no;  you  know  we  had  all  of  Jane's  folks 
from  Davis  County,  and  we  had  eight  of  the  new 
arrivals  from  England,  some  folks  that  Brother 
Kimball  told  to  come  here ;  they  had  been  so  kind 
to  him  while  he  was  in  England." 

"I  wonder  where  the  Meachams  did  stay, 
then?"  asked  John,  uneasily. 

"I  ain't  sure,  but  I  think  they  camped  in  the 
Tithing  Yard ;  you  know  they  have  a  good  wagon, 
and  as  they  are  pretty  independent,  they  would 
rather  do  for  themselves  than  to  stay  with  any- 
one, unless  it  was  an  own  brother  or  sister." 

John  picked  up  his  hat  with  his  usual  slow, 
decisive  motion,  and  refusing  Aunt  Clara's  warm 
invitation  to  stay  awhile  and  chat  with  her,  he 
left  the  house,  with  his  long,  swinging  strides, 
and  was  soon  out  of  the  gate,  on  his  way  to  the 


WHERE  IS  ELLEN?  31i 

Tithing  Yard.  He  did  not  stop  to  ask  himself 
why  he  was  going  there,  for  he  knew  that  most 
of  the  teams  which  had  camped  there  would  be 
on  their  hurried  way  for  home,  as  soon  as  the  Con- 
ference was  once  closed.  Yet  he  walked  as  rap- 
idly as  was  possible  for  him,  and  he  told  himself 
that  all  he  hoped  to  find  out  was  what  hour  the 
Meachams  left,  and  who  else  was  with  Ellen  Ty- 
ler.' 

It  was  a  dark  night  in  the  early  spring.  Once 
inside  the  yard  he  made  his  way  through  the  mass 
of  debris  and  over  outstretched  wagon  tongues  to 
the  one  lone  campfire  burning  brightly  in  a  dis- 
tant corner  of  the  yard.  The  children  were  sitting 
with  sleepy,  bent  heads  upon  their  mother's  knees, 
listening  with  all  but  unconscious  ears  as  one  or 
another  gave  the  company  the  benefit  of  some 
imitation  of  Yorkshire  dialect,  or  spun  a  yarn  in 
canny  Scotch.  As  John  approached  the  group,  he 
noted  one  face,  with  a  positive  start. 

"James  Meacham,"  he  called  out,  unable  to  con- 
tain himself,  "I  thought  you  were  on  your  road  to 
Provo.  I  was  told  you  had  started  this  afternoon ; 
and  also,  that  you  had  Ellen  Tyler  with  you,  who 
was  going  with  your  wife  and  daughter  to  make  a 
short  visit.  How  is  it  I  find  you  here?" 

"Well,  Brother  John,  you  find  me  here  because 
I  am  not  there ;  I  did  not  start,  because  I  was  not 
ready  to  start.  And  I  haven't  seen  your  precious 
young  friend,  Ellen  Tyler;  no  more  has  my  wife, 


312        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

nor  my  girl  Maggie,  I  think.  She  was  to  be  here 
tonight  to  let  us  know  if  she  could  go  down  with 
us.  And  what's  more,  I  am  wondering  why  it  is 
you  are  so  particular  to  know.  Are  you  going  to 
marry  that  fine  young  woman?" 

"Where  is  Sister  Meacham?"  asked  John,  in  a 
low  tone,  unheeding  his  friend's  raillery. 

"She  is  just  gone  to  bed  in  the  wagon.  Here, 
Maggie,"  he  called,  at  the  side  of  the  wagon,  as 
he  led  the  way  for  John,  "here's  John  Stevens 
huntin'  up  pretty  Ellie  Tyler." 

"Sister  Meacham,  have  you  seen  Ellen  today, 
and  do  you  know  whether  she  went  to  Provo  with 
anyone  else?" 

"Why,  Brother  Stevens,  I  saw  Ellie  yesterday, 
and  she  told  me  she  was  going  to  go  with  us  down 
to  Provo  for  a  day  or  two,  but  she  hasn't  been 
around  today,  and  as  I  thought  maybe  she  was 
wanting  to  get  a  bit  readier  I  asked  James  to  wait 
all  night  and  we  would  go  down  to  Tyler's  in  the 
morning  on  our  way  out  of  townv  and  pick  Ellie 
up.  Have  you  been  down  to  her  house?  I  guess 
she  is  there,  all  right." 

John  said  a  few  hurried  words,  and  then  hastened 
away  in  the  silent  night,  leaving  the  Meachams 
with  a  little  wonder  on  their  minds,  but  no  suspi- 
cion of  anything  serious.  He  remembered  that 
Ellen  often  stayed  at  Winthrops  over  night  when 
Aunt  Clara  had  to  be  out  nursing,  and  he  would 
go  there  before  he  gave  way  to  the  horrible  doubts 


WHERE  IS  ELLEN?  313 

and  fears  that  were  nearly  overmastering  him. 
His  knock  at  the  door  was  answered  by  Diantha 
herself,  and  she  held  out  her  hand  to  John  with  a 
pretty  attempt  which  began  at  serious  coldness, 
but  which  ended  like  an  invitation  to  forgive  and 
forget.  John  did  not  see  her  outstretched  hand. 
He  was  too  full  of  other  emotions  to  even  see  the 
welcoming  sparkle  in  her  blue  eyes.  He  merely 
took  off  his  hat  and  asked  laconically : 

"Is  Ellen  Tyler  over  here?" 

"No,  I've  hardly  seen  Ellen  for  weeks,  that  is, 
except  at  a  distance."  Her  manner  was  cold  at 
once.  He  had  come  hunting  another  girl. 

John's  next  words  dispelled  this  coldness,  and 
communicated  to  her  something  o?  the  excited 
fears  which  tore  the  breast  of  the  man  before  her. 

"Diantha,  Ellen  Tyler  left  her  home  this  after- 
noon just  after  meeting,  telling  Aunt  Clara  that 
she  was  going  to  Provo  with  James  Meacham's 
family  to  spend  a  fortnight.  Aunt  Clara  is  near 
worn  out  with  nursing  and  Conference  visitors, 
and  consented  to  let  Ellie  go  for  two  weeks.  Ellen 
took  her  clothes  with  her,  and  bade  them  all  good- 
bye. She  is  not  with  the  Meachams,  who  are  still 
encamped  in  the  Tithing  Yard,  nor  is  she  at  home 
nor  here.  Where  is  she?" 

Diantha  looked  with  fixed,  widening  eyes  at  the 
pale  face  before  her,  and  she  repeated  slowly  and 
mechanically,  as  if  too  stunned  to  think : 

"Where  is  she?" 


XXXIV 
IS  SHE  AT  THE  CHASE  MILL? 


D 


IANTHA  turned  without  another  word 
to  John,  and,  flying  upstairs,  she  was 
down  in  a  moment,  with  a  shawl  thrown 
around  her  shoulders  and  head. 

"Come,"  she  said,  breathlessly. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Over  to  Aunt  Clara,  to  ask  her  what  to  do.  My 
brother  Appleton  is  away,  and  Aunt  Clara  will 
know  better  than  anyone  else  what  to  do." 

They  sped  along  in  the  cool,  spring  evening, 
not  exchanging  one  word,  for  both  hearts  were 
heavy  with  the  weight  of  remorse.  Each  knew 
that  the  word  of  inspiration  had  warned  both  that 
Ellen  was  on  dangerous  ground,  and  each  knew 
that  the  word  had  not  been  heeded  to  the  extent 
that  it  should  have  been. 

"Oh,  for  one  moment  to  undo  the  past,"  was 
the  pitiful  tale  which  each  heart  was  telling  its 
silent  listener. 

Aunt  Clara's  face  whitened  with  a  pallor  like 
their  own  when  the  whole  story  had  been  told; 
but  in  spite  of  the  sure  feeling  o£  catastrophe 
which  assailed  all  three,  Aunt  Clara  was  too  wise 
to  allow  fear  to  master  her. 


IS  SHE  AT  THE  CHASE  MILL?       315 

"Now,  don't  go  to  imagining  that  Ellen  has 
run  away  because  we  can't  just  now  get  trace 
of  her.  Everything  will  turn  out  all  right. 
You  haven't  half  looked  for  her.  She  may  have 
gone  down  with  the  Harpers  instead  of  the 
Meachams.  Or,  she  may  have  gone  out  to  the 
Chase  Mill,  for  you  remember  she  did  not  see 
me  the  very  last  minute.  She  bade  us  good- 
bye before  we  went  to  meeting,  for  she  said 
she  would  not  wait  till  we  got  home,  we  always 
stay  so  long  talking,  and  she  wanted  to  get  off. 
No,  the  thing  to  do  tonight  is  to  find  out  if  she  is 
at  the  Chase  Mill.  You  see,  if  the  Meachams  have 
not  gone,  she  may  have  found  a  chance  to  go 
down  to  the  mill  over  night,  thinking  she  could 
go  on  with  them  in  the  morning." 

There  was  a  very  faint  glimmering  of  hope  in 
this  suggestion,  and  without  saying  anything 
further,  it  was  arranged  that  John  should  get  per- 
mission from  the  President  for  a  three  days'  ab- 
sence from  his  duties  as  night  guardsman,  and 
then  he  should  come  for  both  Aunt  Clara  and  Dian 
in  his  own  light  spring  wagon  with  a  cover,  for 
Dian  would  not  listen  to  the  others  going  with- 
out her.  She  felt  so  unhappy  that  she  could 
scarcely  bear  her  own  sorrow,  and  she  would  have 
followed  them  on  foot,  so  great  was  her  anxiety 
to  know  the  whole  truth  about  her  beloved  friend. 

She  sat  with  Aunt  Clara,  telling  her,  now  that  it 
was  too  late,  all  the  things  that  she  knew  and  sus- 


316        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

pected  of  Ellen ;  of  the  night  of  the  Christmas  ball 
and  of  her  subsequent  determination  to  give  John 
up  entirely  to  Ellen ;  and  of  how  Ellen  had  avoid- 
ed her  all  winter,  and  how  she  had  not  broken 
through  her  reserve,  for  she  had  thought  it  was 
due  to  a  little  jealousy  on  Ellen's  part  on  account 
of  John.  She  also  told  her  of  how  skilfully  Ellen 
had  parried  all  her  questions  and  all  attempts  to 
draw  her  out  the  night  they  slept  together;  lastly 
she  told  of  their  stormy  interview  the  day  before. 

All  this  the  girl  told  with  streaming  eyes,  and 
broken,  sobbing  breaths.  Her  self-reproach  and 
agony  were  terrible,  and  Aunt  Clara  wisely  al- 
lowed the  first  flood  of  her  grief  to  spend  itself 
before  she  interrupted  or  tried  to  calm  the  ex- 
cited girl.  At  last,  however,  the  elder  woman  saw 
a  chance  to  relieve  in  a  measure  the  unnecessary 
remorse,  and  she  asked  gently: 

"Has  Ellen  ever  told  you  she  was  in  love  with 
the  soldier  you  speak  of?" 

"No,  no  indeed.  The  very  last  time  we  had  a 
confidential  talk,  she  said  almost  in  as  many  words 
that  she  would  give  anything  in  this  world  if 
John  Stevens  would  fall  in  love  with  her.  But 
that  was  last  winter,  and  I  have  treated  him  as 
coldly  as  I  possibly  could  ever  since,  for  Ellie's 
sake." 

"Diantha,  you  are  taking  more  of  this  on  your- 
self than  you  have  any  need  to  do;  you  have  not 
helped  Ellen  to  do  wrong,  and  if  you  spoke  once 


IS  SHE  AT  THE  CHASE  MILL?       317 

to  this  wicked  soldier,  it  was  but  for  the  once. 
Purity  does  not  consist  in  never  being  at  fault,  or 
knowing  what  temptation  is,  but  it  is  to  resist  that 
which  on  reflection  we  know  to  be  wrong.  Ellen 
ought  to  understand  this  as  well  as  you  do,  dear, 
for,  oh,  I  have  tried  to  train  her  aright.  I  love 
her  as  my  own  life.  I  have  spent  many  an  hour  in 
trying  to  persuade  her  to  avoid  temptation.  I 
know  the  poor,  dear  girl  is  vain,  and  that  makes 
her  weak.  She  lacks  the  strength  which  helps  us 
to  keep  our  own  good  opinion  of  ourselves.  She 
loves  admiration  and  pleasure  so  well  that,  al- 
ways, even  as  a  child,  she  would  sacrifice  anything 
else  on  earth  for  it."  Poor  Aunt  Clara  was  trying 
to  drown  her  own  self-reproaches  with  philosophy 
and  moral  reflection. 

"But  oh,  to  think  of  Ellen  gone  away,  and  to 
such  a  horrible  doom !  It  is  too  awful,"  and  again 
the  girl  broke  into  a  sobbing  fit.  It  was  Dian's 
first  real  grief,  her  first  experience  of  life  and  its 
deepest  trials. 

"Diantha,  I  can  see  where  I  have  failed  with  my 
poor  Ellie;  I  have  been  so  anxious  to  nurse  and 
help  to  save  the  sick  bodies  of  the  poor  and  desti- 
tute and  to  administer  food  and  raiment  to  the 
needy,  that  I  have  been  at  times  forgetful 
and  careless  of  the  sick  and  needy  soul  of  my 
precious  child,  who  is  like  the  child  of  my  own 
body.  True,  I  did  not  suspect  anything  of  what 
you  are  now  telling  me.  But  this  is  not  wisdom. 


318        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

Let  us  not  mourn  over  the  past,  but  mend  the 
future." 

At  that  moment  John  drove  up,  and  the  three 
rode  away  in  the  late  evening  darkness,  to  visit 
the  Chase  Mill,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  and. 
find  out  if  Ellen  had  been  there.  Aunt  Clara's 
surmise  was  correct;  Ellen  had  ridden  down 
there,  according  to  the  old  gentleman  who  tended 
the  mill,  which  lay  just  southeast  of  the  city. 
Ellen  came  there  alone,  he  said,  and  asked  for  a 
drink  of  milk.  She  also  took  some  bread  and 
butter,  for  she  said  she  expected  to  be  taken  up 
either  by  the  Meachams  or  the  Harpers,  and  she 
was  going  to  spend  two  weeks  in  Prove,  visiting 
her  many  friends  in  that  place. 

"How  did  Ellen  get  here?"  inquired  John. 

"She  said  she  came  down  as  far  as  the  mill  with 
Brother  Sheets.  She  stayed  with  me  here  about 
an  hour,  and  then,  seeing  a  dust  outside  coming 
down  the  main  road,  she  walked  over  there,  car- 
rying her  bundle  of  clothes,  and  waited  for  the 
teams.  I  was  busy  getting  up  the  cows  and  feed- 
ing the  stock,  and  did  not  think  any  more  about 
it  for  about  an  hour,  and  when  I  looked  out  to 
the  main  road  for  her,  she  was  gone.  I  went  right 
out,  and  happened  to  meet  a  team  going  south, 
and  I  asked  the  driver  if  the  Meachams  or  the 
Harpers  had  gone  on  that  way  a  little  while  be- 
fore, and  he  said  he  thought  the  Harpers  were  just 
ahead  of  him,  as  they  drove  out  of  the  city  about 


IS  SHE  AT  THE  CHASE  MILL?       310 

half  an  hour  before  he  did.  So,  of  course,  she  has 
gone  down  to  Prove.  If  you  want  to  stay  over 
night,  I  will  rig  up  some  straw  ticks,  and  make 
you  as  comfortable  as  I  can." 

Aunt  Clara  could  never  feel  satisfied  to  go  back 
to  the  city  without  learning  something  definite 
and  sure  about  their  missing  girl;  and  so  it  was 
decided  to  wait  over  night  at  the  farm  house,  and 
to  start  very  early  in  the  morning  for  Prova,  and 
bring  back  their  loved  wanderer  with  them  on 
their  return  next  day. 


w 


XXXV 
ON  TO  PROVO 

HAT  conflicting  emotions  swayed  that 
little  party  of  three  as  they  rode  rapidly 
along  the  next  day  towards  the  town  of 
Provo ! 

Diantha  had  chosen  to  sit  by  John  on  the  front 
seat,  both  to  accommodate  Aunt  Clara,  who  was 
stout,  and  to  comfort  her  own  miserable  heart,  by 
resting  on  his  great,  fortress-like  personality.  She 
was  too  weak  just  now  to  stand  alone,  as  she  had 
done  all  her  life.  She  was  discovering  that  she 
was  a  true  woman,  and  she  needed  someone  to 
lean  on  in  her  hour  of  woe. 

"John,"  she  said,  "do  you  remember  when  we 
came  home  last  year  from  Provo,  how  we  met 
those  soldiers,  almost  here  it  was?"  and  then  that 
brought  up  the  thought  all  were  trying  to  put 
away,  and  Aunt  Clara  interrupted : 

"I  wonder  where  the  folks  stayed  all  night! 
They  couldn't  drive  clear  through  to  Provo  after 
meeting  was  out  yesterday  afternoon.  We  didn't 
think  to  inquire  at  Dr.  Dunyon's  at  the  point  of 
the  mountain,  if  they  stayed  there  over  night." 

"I  will  ask  at  the  Bishop's  as  we  pass  through 
Lehi,  if  he  saw  the  Harpers  on  the  road  today," 


ON  TO  PROVO  321 

Accordingly,  they  drove  to  the  Bishop's,  in 
Lehi,  and  he  told  them  he  had  seen  the  Harpers 
driving  along  early  that  morning,  but  they  did 
not  stop  over  in  the  settlement. 

"Did  you  notice  if  they  had  two  or  three  girls 
with  them?  They  had  a  grown  daughter  of  their 
own,  and  Ellen  Tyler  came  down  with  them.  I 
was  wondering  if  she  sat  on  the  front  seat." 

This  was  said  as  indifferently  as  it  was  possible, 
for  John  did  not  want  to  arouse  unnecessary  sus- 
picion or  cause  unnecessary  talk. 

"Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  noticed.  They  had 
the  wagon  cover  tied  up  at  the  sides,  and  there 
were  women  or  girls  inside,  for  I  heard  them 
laughing  and  singing  as  they  passed  by  our 
fence." 

This  was  cheering,  and  John  consented,  al- 
though somewhat  reluctantly,  to  accept  the  Bish- 
op's kindly  invitation  to  stop  and  have  some  din- 
ner, for  he  realized  the  women  ought  to  eat,  even 
if  it  were  impossible  for  him  to  do  so.  It  took 
some  time  for  the  worthy  Bishop's  wife  to  cook 
dinner,  and  she  was  very  anxious  to  get  the  best 
she  had,  for  John  Stevens  was  an  old  friend,  and 
he  had  done  them  many  a  good  turn.  Good  as  the 
dinner  was,  no  one  seemed  able  to  eat  much,  al- 
though John  drank  some  of  the  rich,  cold  milk 
which  the  Bishop's  wife  brought  up  from  the 
springhouse. 

It  was  past  three  o'clock  when  they  left  Lehi, 

21 


322        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  there  were  twenty  miles  to  drive  to  Provo. 
But  John's  team  was  a  fine  one,  and  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  just  at  the  early  spring 
dusk,  as  they  neared  the  edge  of  the  bench  over- 
looking Provo,  they  all  strained  with  hungry, 
eager  eyes  at  the  little  town  stretched  along  the 
river  bottoms,  and  each  hoped  and  tried  to  believe 
that  the  object  of  their  search  was  sheltered  be- 
neath one  of  those  low,  friendly  roofs. 

Diantha  told  herself  that  when  she  got  hold  of 
Ellen  she  would  squeeze  her  and  pet  her  until 
she  would  never  need  the  love  of  another  person. 
She  would  never  leave  her  side  again,  for  she 
would  either  forsake  her  own  home  to  live  with 
Ellen,  or  she  would  coax  Aunt  Clara  to  let  Ellen 
live  with  her.  And  oh,  what  would  she  not  do  to 
make  Ellen  happy!  She  remembered  that  Ellen 
did  not  like  to  make  beds,  or  wash  dishes.  Well, 
she  would  never  have  that  to  do  again,  for  she 
would  take  all  that  work  off  Ellen's  slender  hands. 
She  did  not  mind  it,  and  Ellen  should  never  have 
to  do  anything  she  disliked  again. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  more  experienced  head 
of  Aunt  Clara  was  cogitating  about  the  possible 
future  when  they  found  and  brought  the  dear 
wanderer  home,  and  she  decided  that  Ellen  must 
take  up  and  faithfully  perform  some  of  the  disa- 
greeable things  which  all  her  life  she  had  slight- 
ed and  slipped  over.  She  felt  that  perhaps  she, 
herself,  had  favored  Ellen  too  much,  in  that  she 


ON  TO  PROVO  323 

had  allowed  her  to  please  herself  always,  and 
that  too,  often  at  the  expense  of  the  comfort  and 
rights  of  others.  She  saw  now  that  what  Ellen 
needed  was  not  less  affection,  but  more  discipline, 
to  learn  that  happiness  does  not  consist  in  gratifi- 
cation of  one's  own  wishes  and  desires,  but  in  the 
cheerful  sacrifice  of  self  for  the  good  and  com- 
fort of  others.  She  realized  now  that  her  Ellen 
had  that  inner  selfishness  clothed  with  an  outer 
lavish  extravagance  which  deceives  and  entices 
the  best  of  casual  friends.  Ellen  would  give  up 
anything  but  her  own  vain  pleasures.  Aunt 
Clara  had  become  so  accustomed  to  sacrificing 
herself  for  those  around  her,  that  she  began  to 
fear  lest  she  had  thus  deprived  others  of  that  cha- 
stening discipline.  She  resolved  again  and  again 
that  she  would  take  up  another  line  of  action  with 
her  loved  child,  who  was  as  dear  as  if  she  had 
been  her  own  offspring. 

John's  thoughts  were  too  deep  to  be  discernible 
from  his  composed  yet  pale  face,  and  he  said 
nothing,  unless  questioned  by  the  others,  but 
guided  his  team  with  a  firm  yet  gentle  hand. 

The  low  door  of  the  Harpers'  home  opened  at 
John's  knock,  and  the  girl  Jenny,  herself,  opened 
it. 

"Ellie  Tyler?  Oh,  no,  we  haven't  seen  her. 
She  said  Saturday  in  meeting  that  she  might  come 
down  with  us,  or  she  would  come  with  the  Meach- 
ams,  and  she  has  promised  to  spend  one  week 


324        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

with  me.  I  guess  she  is  on  the  road  with  the 
Meachams." 

John  knew  better  than  that,  but  he  would  not 
set  tongues  to  wagging,  and  so  he  said  again,  in 
his  quiet,  yet  now  wily  way : 

"Did  you  see  that  officer  from  Camp  Floyd  as 
you  drove  out  of  the  city  last  night?  I  under- 
stand he  has  been  attending  our  meetings.  I 
wonder  if  any  of  those  soldiers  are  really  interest- 
ed in  our  Church?" 

The  girl  caught  eagerly  at  the  bait  he  had  so 
skilfully  flung. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  saw  him.  He  had  a  spanking  team, 
and  he  passed  us  just  before  we  got  to  Chase's 
mill.  He  was  alone,  though,  and  if  he  was  at 
meeting  yesterday  I  didn't  see  him.  But  I  be- 
lieve he  was  there  Saturday  with  some  more  sol- 
diers." 

John  had  caught  the  door  post  as  she  spoke, 
and  he  leaned  against  his  arm  heavily,  as  he  said, 
huskily,  still  determined  to  avoid  all  unnecessary 
talk: 

"We  are  going  to  find  Ellen,  as  there  is  to  be  a 
theater  in  the  Social  Hall  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
and  she  is  needed  to  take  a  small  part.  We  will 
find  her  all  right;  thank  you." 

John  got  out  to  the  carriage,  and  in  a  husky 
voice  he  repeated  what  had  been  told  him,  and  he 
added : 


ON  TO  PROVO  325 

"I  am  going  to  Bishop  Miller's  and  get  a  fresh 
team  and  drive  out  to  Camp  Floyd  tonight.  You 
can  both  stay  at  the  Bishop's  all  night,  and  I  will 
arrange  to  have  you  driven  home  tomorrow." 

"I  shall  not  stay  all  night  in  Prove,"  said  Di- 
antha,  harshly.  "I  will  walk  if  you  will  not  take 
me,  but  I  am  going  to  Camp  Floyd  myself  this 
night." 

"Get  in,  John,"  said  Aunt  Clara's  quiet  voice, 
"and  drive  on  to  the  Bishop's  and  get  your  team. 
We  will  sit  out  in  the  carriage,  and  you  needn't 
say  to  anyone  that  we  are  with  you,  for  I  am 
anxious  as  yourself  to  keep  people  from  talking. 
We  are  both  going  with  you." 

John  was  already  driving  heedlessly  down  the 
street,  for  he  had  neither  time  nor  words  to  waste. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken,  for  miles,  by  the  three 
who  rode  so  rapidly  along  the  dusty,  rough  new 
road  which  stretched  ghostlike  along  the  barren 
valley  between  the  tiny  settlements  in  Utah  Val- 
ley, and  the  distant  encampment  on  the  other  side 
of  the  western  hills. 

As  they  flew  along  in  the  bright  young  moon- 
light, the  swift  light  clouds  anon  parted  and  then 
banked  up  again,  thus  alternately  revealing  and 
concealing  the  scene  about  them;  at  each  side  of 
the  road  the  great  bristling  sagebrush  which  cov- 
ered the  plain  rose  up  like  a  high,  rough  hedge. 
Here  and  there  a  startled  rabbit  flew  over  the 
lower  sagebushes,  losing  himself  in  the  faint 


326        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

moonlight  and  the  distance.  The  lake  now  lay 
before  them,  now  behind  them,  like  a  dark,  pur- 
ple shadow,  its  quiet  ripples  untouched  by  breeze, 
and  unbroken  by  any  current.  The  dark  moun- 
tains shut  them  in,  and  as  they  neared  the  western 
rim,  it  seemed  as  if  a  wall  of  impenetrable  gloom 
shut  off  further  progress ;  but  a  narrow  defile  led 
through  the  low  hills,  and  en  they  sped. 

In  the  near  distance  a  coyote  yelped  in  shrill 
hunger,  or  answered  his  mate's  warning  cry  from 
the  distant  foothills.  The  cool  air  grew  chill 
around  them,  and  Aunt  Clara  drew  her  own  shawl 
about  her,  and  threw  upon  Dian's  unconscious 
shoulders  the  extra  shawl  she  herself  had  remem- 
bered to  add  to  their  hasty  preparations. 

As  they  neared  the  dusky  group  of  tents  in  the 
outer  village  across  the  stream  from  Camp  Floyd 
even  John  was  startled  as  a  voice  sang  out  sud- 
denly : 

"Who  goes  there?" 

John  saw  the  gleam  of  a  musket  barrel  as  the 
sentinel  stepped  from  behind  the  cedar  tree. 

"A  friend,"  John  answered.  "Harney's  the 
word,"  and  John  thanked  his  happy  fate  that  he 
had  by  accident  or  inspiration  hit  upon  the  right 
pass-word.  The  sentinel  lowered  the  musket,  ana 
as  he  approached  the  carriage,  Diantha  shrank 
with  a  nameless  terror  of  the  night  and  its  un- 
known perils  close  to  John's  side.  Without  a 
word,  John  put  out  his  arm,  and  drew  her  to  him, 


ON  TO  PROVO  327 

as  if  to  shield  her  from  even  the  gaze  of  wicked 
men;  and  thus  he  held  her  close  while  he  par- 
leyed with  the  soldier. 


XXXVI 

•n 

AT  CAMP  FLOYD 

HAVE  important  business  to  present  to 
your  commander.  I  bear  with  me  letters 
and  orders  from  President  Brigham 
Young,  endorsed  by  Governor  Gumming. 
I  must  see  General  Johnston  at  once." 

Diantha  knew  then  that  John  had  prepared  him- 
self for  this  before  he  had  left  the  city,  and  she 
bowed  her  head  in  shame  for  all  it  implied  con- 
cerning her  beloved  Ellen. 

"I  will  leave  you,  Aunt  Clara  and  Diantha,"  he 
said,  as  he  drove  on,  "at  the  house  of  one  of  our 
people  at  the  edge  of  the  camp,  while  I  go  in  and 
learn  what  I  can  from  the  commander.  You  will 
be  perfectly  safe,  for  Brother  Hicks  is  the  store- 
keeper, and  he  has  his  wife  with  him,  and  three 
grown  boys.  Wait  here  till  I  come  for  you." 

John  lifted  Aunt  Clara  out,  and  gave  the  brother 
who  came  to  the  carriage  directions  to  get  her 
something  to  eat,  for  she  was  nearly  worn  out 
with  her  long  and  rough  ride.  Then  he  turned  to 
the  carriage,  and  taking  Dian  in  his  great  strong 
arms,  he  lifted  her  to  the  ground,  and  without  a 
word,  he  led  her  into  the  house,  and  shut  the  door 
between  them. 


AT  CAMP  FLOYD  329 

He  left  the  carriage  at  the  house,  and  proceeded 
to  the  sleeping  encampment  on  foot.  It  was 
midnight,  and  everything  was  dark  and  silent 
around  the  white-tented  grounds.  However,  Gen- 
eral Johnston  arose  at  once  in  answer  to  the  call, 
and  with  a  slightly  disgusted  face  listened  to  the 
story  told  by  John. 

"You  will  find  Captain  Sherwood  in  his  own 
quarters,  and  you  are  at  liberty  to  put  whatever 
question  you  may  choose  to  him,  for  Captain 
Sherwood  has  received  strict  orders  on  that  sub- 
ject from  my  own  lips.  My  officers  are  gentle- 
men, and  the  soldiers  are  as  decent  and  orderly  as 
common  men  in  any  walk  of  life.  I  can't  see  on 
what  grounds  Governor  Gumming  interferes  with 
my  discipline  in  this  way." 

The  general  was  intensely  annoyed  over  the 
whole  matter.  Evidently  a  girl  more  or  less  was 
nothing  to  him.  His  rest  and  his  discipline  were 
of  more  consequence  than  all  the  women  in  the 
country.  Yet  he  could  not  ignore  the  request  of 
the  Territorial  executive,  and  so  John  was  al- 
lowed to  depart  with  permission  to  go  where  he 
pleased  in  the  camp,  and  to  secure  and  take  away 
all  the  girls  and  women  he  could  find  or  might 
choose  to  befriend.  John  found  his  way  to  the  offi- 
cers' tents,  and  as  he  approached  them,  he  saw  the 
light  of  a  cigar  in  the  front  of  one.  He  gave  the 
pass-word  and  asked: 

"May  I  inquire  if  I  am  near  the  tent  of  Cap- 


330        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

tain  Sherwood?  I  have  business  of  importance 
with  him." 

"My  name  is  Saxey,"  came  the  answer  out  of 
the  darkness,  and  as  the  cigar  was  thrown  away 
the  colonel  threw  up  the  tent  door  and  said : 

"Come  in,  sir,  whoever  you  are." 

"My  name  is  Stevens,  and  I  am  from  Great  Salt 
Lake  City.  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  Captain 
Sherwood  has  abducted  a  young  girl  from  our 
midst,  one  Ellen  Tyler.  As  she  is  the  step-daughter 
of  a  widowed  aunt,  I  have  been  authorized  by  the 
Governor  and  have  received  permission  from  your 
commander  to  do  what  I  can  to  recover  the  young 
lady.  Where  can  I  find  Captain  Sherwood?" 

John  felt  willing  that  any  of  them  should  know 
the  object  of  his  visit,  for  he  keenly  suspected  that 
they  must  many  of  them  be  aware  of  it,  anyway. 
Colonel  Saxey  stood  toying  with  a  small  dagger 
on  his  low  stand,  and  his  kind  face  expressed 
something  of  the  anxiety  this  disclosure  had  upon 
him.  It  was  with  a  different  tone  of  voice  to 
that  used  by  General  Johnston  that  he  replied: 

"I  have  not  seen  any  strange  girl  around  the 
camp  lately,  but  I  am  free  to  confess  to  you  that 
Sherwood  was  not  here  at  all  yesterday.  We 
only  review  twice  a  week,  and  so  the  commander 
did  not  know  of  his  absence — an  absence  without 
leave,  I  must  also  confess.  But  I  do  not  think 
that  anything  serious  has  happened,  my  dear  Mr. 
Stevens.  On  the  contrary,  I  hope  you  will  find  all 


AT  CAMP  FLOYD  331 

your  suspicions  are  groundless.  Captain  Sherwood 
is  a  gentleman."  He  winced  a  little  as  the  familiar 
form  of  defense  of  a  friend  slipped  from  his  lips. 
"I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  if  you  should 
find  that  the  young  lady  you  speak  of  has  run 
away  with  the  captain,  he  will  marry  her  at  once, 
even  if  he  has  not  already  done  so." 

John  Stevens  said  nothing,  but  slowly  stroked 
his  beard,  as  he  stood  impatiently  waiting  to  hunt 
the  "gallant"  captain  up.  The  soldier  noted  the 
fiery  gleam  and  glitter  in  the  scintillating  eyes  of 
the  mountaineer,  and  he  felt  that  Sherwood  would 
need  all  his  skill  to  meet  such  a  foe  under  any 
circumstances.  He  said  no  more,  however,  but 
silently  led  the  way  from  his  tent  to  Captain  Sher- 
wood's tent  door. 

A  determined  call  brought  out  the  sleepy  or- 
derly, who  told  Colonel  Saxey  that  Sherwood  had 
been  away  since  yesterday  morning,  and  he  did 
not  know  anything  about  him.  Saxey  had  feared 
this  would  be  the  result,  but  he  stood  uncertain 
for  a  moment.  Then  turning  to  Stevens  he  said : 

"Come,"  and  they  glided  out  into  the  night, 
leaving  the  drowsy  orderly  to  return  to  his  bro- 
ken slumber. 

They  passed  rapidly  through  the  outer  lines, 
after  giving  the  night  pass-word,  and  once  be- 
yond the  chance  of  being  overheard  by  soldiers 
within  the  camp  and  stragglers  within  the  village, 
Colonel  Saxey  paused  in  the  high  sagebrush 


332       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

around  them,  and  drawing  near  the  tall,  shadowy 
form  of  his  companion,  he  said,  distinctly  but 
softly : 

"I  believe  you  are  a  good  man ;  I  have  seen  a  lit- 
tle of  this  matter,  and  I  did  what  I  could  to  avert 
this  disaster.  I  cannot  tell  you  all  I  know;  it 
would  be  dishonorable.  I  want  you  to  promise 
me  one  thing,  and  that  is,  that  no  matter  what  has 
happened,  you  will  not  commit  a  greater  crime  to 
avenge  yourself  of  a  wrong.  Murder  will  not 
wipe  out  sin.  And  there  is  hate  enough  in  the 
Territory  as  it  is." 

"I  am  not  a  common  butcher,"  said  John, 
gloomily. 

"I  have  nothing  farther  to  say.  But  there  is  a 
small  log  cabin  not  far  from  here,  where  Sher- 
wood sometimes  stays  at  nights."  He  started  to 
go  back  to  his  quarters;  then  turning  back,  he 
paused  as  if  to  speak.  John  waited,  but  no  word 
came  from  the  trembling  lips  of  the  agitated  sol- 
dier. 

John  hurried  away,  too  anxious  to  wait  longer, 
and  the  colonel  again  slowly  bent  his  way  in  the 
dim,  midnight  darkness,  to  the  sleeping  village  of 
the  white  tents,  and  as  he  passed  the  outer  guard, 
he  murmured: 

"Have  I  done  right,  or  have  I  done  a  coward- 
ly thing?" 

The  guard  touched  his  cap,  and  said : 

"I  did  not  understand  you,  sir." 


AT  CAMP  FLOYD  333 

"No  matter,"  answered  the  colonel,  as  he 
passed  on  more  rapidly  to  his  tent. 

"The  girl  may  yet  be  saved,  or  he  may  be  made 
to  marry  her,"  he  muttered,  as  he  threw  up  his 
own  tent  door. 


XXXVII 
"DEAD  OR  DISGRACED?" 

OHN  sped  away  between  the  high  sage- 
brush and  willows  which  skirted  the 
stream  running  along  west  from  camp. 
At  one  place  he  found  himself  on  the 
bank  and  saw  that  the  ditch  ran  far  below  in  a 
small  gully. 

He  could  hear  nothing,  nor  could  he  see  any 
signs  of  human  habitation.  He  turned  his  steps 
in  another  direction  and  hurried  onward  in  his  zig- 
zag course,  straining  his  eyes  in  the  fading  moon- 
light of  the  evening  for  sight  of  a  habitation. 

All  at  once  he  heard  a  distant  or  smothered  cry. 
He  stopped  at  once,  and  as  he  could  hear  nothing 
further,  he  fancied  that  he  must  have  been  mis- 
taken, or  that  it  was  the  screech  of  a  far-away 
mountain  lion.  He  turned  again  in  his  tracks,  and 
by  some  instinct  ran  back  to  the  hidden  stream 
which  flowed  along  down  in  the  deep  gully.  That 
scream  again!  and  he  was  sure  it  was  a  woman's 
voice.  He  flew  now  in  the  direction  from  which 
it  had  come.  The  moon  was  down,  and  he 
could  see  nothing  but  shadows  and  gloom,  ac- 
customed as  he  was  to  piercing  these  mountain 
nights  with  his  keen,  far-sighted  eyes. 


"DEAD  OR  DISGRACED?"  335 

Again  and  again  that  scream,  and  this  time  he 
saw,  not  many  rods  distant  from  him,  a  door  flung 
open,  for  it  threw  a  stream  of  light  across  the 
brush  between  him  and  the  cabin.  He  ran  on  and 
on,  jumping  over  the  brush  occasionally  and 
panting  harder  as  his  bounds  drew  him  nearer 
the  source  of  those  piercing  screams.  A  man's 
curses  and  three  successive  shots  rang  out  upon 
the  air,  mingled  with  screams,  then  a  hideous 
laugh  in  a  harsh  voice  that  was  still  a  woman's, 
and  John  could  just  see  a  flying  figure  bound  out 
from  the  door  and  disappear  in  the  depths  of  the 
shadows  of  the  gully. 

"You  she-devil!"  yelled  a  man,  as  he  dashed 
away  after  the  figure  flying  away  in  the  darkness. 
John  hesitated  a  moment  whether  to  follow  the 
two  who  had  run  away,  or  to  make  straight  for 
the  cabin;  he  chose  the  latter,  and  with  hasty 
bounds,  he  was  soon  at  the  door  with  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  a  figure  stretched  upon  the  floor. 

It  was  Ellen!  A  moment,  and  he  was  beside 
her,  trying  to  stanch  the  pistol  shot  wound  in  her 
gaping  neck,  and  calling  softly  under  his  breath 
for  her  to  open  her  eyes. 

He  did  not  hear  the  heavy  steps  behind  him, 
but  he  turned  to  meet  the  black,  blazing  eyes  of 
Louisiana  Liz,  peeping  in  the  door  behind  him, 
her  smoking  pistol  still  in  her  hand,  and  then  he 
heard  the  woman  howl  with  wicked  laughter : 
"You  sought  your  flown  bird  too  late,  for  the 


336       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

huntsman  found  her  heart  and  the  keen  arrow  of 
hate  found  her  throat  almost  as  soon.  Ha,  ha,  ha !" 

John's  blood  curdled  in  his  veins,  and  he  held 
the  dying  girl  closer  to  him  as  he  bent  his  head 
over  her. 

Ellie  opened  her  eyes  as  she  felt  John's  pres- 
ence, and  whispered  painfully,  "Tell  Aunt  Clara 
to  forgive  me ;  I  am  so  sorry.  I  am — so — sorry — " 

John  never  knew  how  he  allowed  that  sweet  life 
to  flicker  out,  for  he  felt  as  if  he  could  arise  and 
grapple  with  Death  himself  and  conquer  the 
grim  destroyer  of  all  this  beauty  and  youth. 

"Well,  my  long-bearded  friend,"  gasped  a 
hoarse  voice  behind  him;  "you  seem  to  have 
served  your  sweetheart  a  pretty  ghastly  trick." 

John  laid  the  body  of  his  dead  upon  the  earth- 
en floor  of  the  hut,  and  with  a  spring  he  was  upon 
his  adversary.  But  the  soldier,  who  was  too 
quick  for  him,  dodged  the  blow,  and  ran  out  of 
the  door.  John  followed,  and  ran  this  way  and 
that,  but  the  darkness  and  the  unfamiliarity  of 
the  place  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  find 
the  villain  who  had  thus  dared  to  imply  that  he 
himself  had  been  guilty  of  this  awful  deed. 

In  a  moment,  John  knew  how  impossible  it 
would  be  for  him  to  prove  anything.  From  the 
few  words  of  so  good  a  friend  as  Colonel  Saxey 
he  knew  that  it  would  only  provoke  hostilities  and 
perhaps  plunge  the  whole  Territory  into  war  and 


"DEAD  OR  DISGRACED?"          337 

rob  the  leaders  of  their  lives,  if  he  added  another 
crime  to  the  one  already  committed. 

His  hands  twitched  and  his  throat  ached  as  he 
entered  that  dreadful  hut,  for  he  felt  that  he  would 
be  justified  in  the  eyes  of  God  and  man  in  taking 
the  lives  of  such  vile  reprobates  as  were  this  sol- 
dier Sherwood  and  his  octoroon  paramour.  Yet  his 
first  duty  was  to  take  the  body  of  this  unhappy 
girl  home  for  decent  burial,  and  then  he  might 
well  leave  the  question  of  revenge  to  God  and 
the  future. 

No  one  saw  or  molested  him  as  he  made  his 
hasty  preparation  to  carry  the  body  away.  He 
slowly  and  painfully  made  his  way  to  the  strag- 
gling village  north  of  where  he  stood.  He  stepped 
more  softly  as  he  neared  the  village,  for  he  had 
no  mind  to  awaken  the  inmates  of  the  huts  around 
him.  He  had  wrapped  the  body  up  in  a  quilt,  and 
now  he  laid  it  carefully  down  just  outside  the 
window  of  the  dwelling,  whence  shone  the  light 
that  proved  to  him  that  his  friends  were  awaiting 
him. 

He  stood  a  moment,  to  collect  his  strength  a 
little  before  he  met  any  one;  then  he  knocked 
softly.  Aunt  Clara  came  to  the  door,  and  asked 
as  soon  as  she  saw  him,  "Have  you  found  her?" 

John  bowed  his  head ;  he  could  not  speak. 

"Is  she  dead  or  disgraced?"  Aunt  Clara  never 
knew  why  she  asked  such  a  question,  but  it  broke 
the  calm  of  the  man  before  her,  and  hi  leaned 
22 


338       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

upon  his  arm  against  the  doorpost,  unable  to  con- 
trol his  voice.  His  body  was  quivering  with  a 
man's  rare  and  awful  sobs;  they  shook  him  as  a 
heavy  wind  shakes  the  mighty  canyon  pines. 

Aunt  Clara  stood  gazing  at  him  with  glazed 
eyes  of  anguish.  She  could  not  speak,  as  Diantha 
followed  her  and  asked: 

"What  is  it,  John ;  what  have  you  found  ?  Can't 
you  speak?  Where  is  Ellen?  Why  don't  you 
tell  us?  Why  don't  you  bring  her  here?" 

"Dead  or  disgraced?"  quivered  Aunt  Clara's 
lips,  as  she  looked  imploringly  up  into  John's 
averted  eyes. 

John  straightened  himself,  and  answered  with  a 
shiver:  "Both!"  And  poor  Aunt  Clara  fainted  at 
his  feet. 


XXXVIII 
SEGO-LILIES 

TjHE  death  of  Ellen  Tyler  cast  a  heavy 
I  gloom  over  the  whole  community.    The 
terrible    circumstances    surrounding    it 
gave  an  added  cause  of  enmity  between 
the  people  and  the  army. 

The  funeral,  which  was  held  in  the  ward  school 
house,  was  attended  by  nearly  every  one  in  the 
city.  The  people  assembled  in  the  quiet  and  un- 
demonstrative fashion  usual  on  such  occasions; 
and  long  before  ten  o'clock,  the  time  set  for  the 
services,  the  house  was  filled  to  overflowing.  The 
windows  were  raised,  and  temporary  benches  ar- 
ranged outside,  so  that  as  many  as  possible  could 
hear  the  sermon. 

The  simple  cortege  made  its  way  down  the 
street.  As  the  mourners  entered  the  hall,  no  one 
wondered  to  see  John  Stevens  assist  the  foster- 
mother  of  the  girl  as  she  leaned  heavily  on  his 
arm.  Aunt  Clara's  face  was  very  pale,  for  her 
heart  was  well-nigh  broken ;  and  yet  her  eyes  were 
lifted  and  clear  while  all  who  glanced  at  her  saint- 
like, controled  face,  felt  calmed  and  quieted.  Di- 
antha  was  among  the  chief  mourners,  but  she  was 
not  as  tearless  and  as  calm  as  Aunt  Clara;  her 
convulsed  face  betrayed  her  mute  agony. 


340       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

The  whole  awful  story  had  swept  from  mouth 
to  mouth,  and  some  of  the  men  who  sat  watching 
the  sad  procession  file  in  felt  the  hot  blood  of  re- 
venge pour  from  heart  to  temple,  and  there  were 
few  present  who  would  not  gladly  have  taken  up 
the  ghastly  burden  of  swift  revenge  in  behalf  of 
the  dead  girl. 

The  coffin  was  placed  upon  the  table  just  below 
the  pulpit.  Its  plain,  mountain  wood  was  unre- 
lieved by  ornament  or  trimming.  Within,  the  girl 
lay,  peaceful  and  silent,  her  sweet  face  jusrt 
touched  by  the  creamy,  heavy  petals  of  the  sego- 
lilies  which  her  small  hands  clasped.  Those  lilies 
were  like  her  own  life,  beautiful  and  white,  yet  at 
the  heart  just  purpled  with  the  shadows. 

President  Young  lastly  passed  in,  and  the  con- 
gregation waited  with  anxious  longing  to  hear  his 
words  upon  this  unhappy  occasion.  After  a  brief 
hymn,  the  President  arose,  and  with  slow,  im- 
pressive sentences  he  pictured  the  sheltered  life  of 
such  girls  as  the  one  before  him.  He  touched  upon 
the  affectionate  nature  of  woman,  and  told  the 
Elders  of  Israel  that  to  them  in  part  was  due  the 
blame  of  such  awful  scenes  as  this.  There  was 
enough  of  love,  plenty  of  safe,  sheltered  retreats 
for  all  good  women  in  the  hearts  and  homes  of  the 
men  of  Zion.  Women  should  have  as  ample  op- 
portunity to  select  their  partners  as  men,  and  if 
they  showed  a  preference  for  a  good  man,  why 
should  he  not  consider  her  right  to  claim  his  af- 


SEGO-LILIES  341 

faction,  as  carefully  as  he  would  expect  her  to 
consider  a  like  claim  from  him?  He  spoke  in 
strong,  powerful  terms  of  the  wickedness  of  men 
who  cared  nothing  for  the  virtue  of  womankind, 
and  who  respected  nothing  on  earth  or  in  heaven. 

His  words  stirred  the  already  excited  hearts  to 
a  fiery  pitch  of  indignation.  As  if  he  saw  the  un- 
necessary anger,  he  said  in  quiet  tones :  "It  may 
prove  useless  to  try  to  keep  our  girls  and  boys 
from  running  after  sin,  for  if  they  have  not  the  in- 
tegrity to  stand,  they  will  fall.  Now,  this  young 
girl  has  had  good  teachings,  good  examples,  and 
she  has  been  surrounded  by  love  and  kindness; 
she  has  not  been  neglected.  In  her  weakness  she 
loved  too  well  the  admiration  of  men,  and  she  has 
herself  sought  and  found  her  sin  and  its  punish- 
ment. We  must  stand  or  fall  for  ourselves,  and 
while  we  are  responsible  in  a  measure  for  the 
words  we  speak  and  the  example  we  set,  yet  each 
must  answer  for  himself  or  herself  at  the  bar  of 
Justice." 

At  his  words,  so  solemnly  spoken,  Diantha  felt 
her  very  heart  stand  still. 

"Will  this  fair  daughter  of  Zion  never  receive 
salvation?"  asked  the  speaker.  "Yes,  she  certainly 
will.  She  will  learn  her  lesson.  She  will  repent 
of  her  sin;  and  after  suffering  the  necessary  pun- 
ishment will  be  reunited  with  her  parents  and 
friends,  and  with  them  share  the  blessings  and 
privileges  of  the  priesthood.  She  has  already 


342        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

partly  paid  the  penalty  of  her  sin  with  her  life. 
She  will  be  saved  eventually  in  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven.  I  do  not  want  the  family  to  grieve  too 
much,  for  this  poor  child  is  far  better  off  than  she 
could  possibly  be  upon  earth  now;  and  her  last 
words  were  words  of  repentance  and  affection. 
Some  of  these  spirits,  though  weak  in  the  flesh, 
are  very  choice  and  lovely.  We  love  them  and 
mourn  deeply  if  they  fall  into  error  or  are  snatched 
away  by  death. 

"If  this  be  a  grievous  sin  for  a  tender  and  deli- 
cate girl,  what  must  be  said  of  men  who  lead 
women  to  destruction?  I  would  say  that  no  pit  is 
deep  enough  for  them.  I  do  not  wish  to  excite 
any  undue  rage  towards  the  vile  wretch  and  his 
paramour  whose  work  this  is ;  for  God  will  avenge 
the  innocent  on  their  enemies.  But  to  you  Eld- 
ers of  Israel,  I  say,  beware  how  you  treat  the 
fair  daughters  of  Zion!  Man  should  protect  and 
preserve  innocent,  pure  womanhood.  No  woman 
can  sin  as  deeply  as  a  man,  for  she  does  not  bear 
the  same  responsibility.  If  men  expect  to  stand 
at  the  head  of  their  families,  let  them  see  to  it 
that  they  are  without  sin  of  speech  or  action. 
That  which  is  a  sin  in  a  woman,  becomes  a 
crime  in  a  man.  Teach  your  sons  to  protect  their 
virtue  as  they  would  their  lives,  and  then  there 
need  be  no  fear  of  their  assailing  any  woman.  God 
loves  these  weak  ones  as  well  as  we  do,  and  He 
will  overrule  all  things  for  the  best  to  such  as  are 


SEGO-LILIES  343 

sinned  against  and  are  thereby  brought  down  into 
sin.  Only  let  the  parents  so  conduct  themselves 
that  their  children  will  receive  the  benefit  of  their 
lives  of  purity  and  holiness,  and  all  their  tears  of 
grief  will  be  turned  into  joy  in  the  hereafter." 

Diantha  felt  the  whole  weight  of  this  terrible 
lesson  pressing  upon  her  own  sad  heart,  and  it 
nearly  crushed  her  with  a  double  burden  of  grief. 
She  wondered  how  she  could  ever  for  one  mo- 
ment have  looked  lightly  upon  her  past  actions 
and  words,  wherein  she  had  said  and  thought  it 
no  wrong  to  turn  away  from  the  Gospel  and 
marry  out  of  the  Church.  She  asked  herself  bit- 
terly whether  a  part  of  Ellen's  guilt  did  not  lie 
at  her  own  door,  for  had  she  not  given  some 
measure  of  idle  encouragement  to  this  same  sol- 
dier, and  had  she  not  said  many  foolish  things 
and  thought  many  vain,  silly  thoughts?  She  felt 
how  inadequate  were  the  theories  of  the  world  re- 
garding love  and  its  proper  place  in  our  lives,  and 
she  saw  how  foolish  ideals  and  romantic  poems 
and  plays  had  rendered  her  conception  of  love 
fevered  and  unreal.  She  saw,  while  sitting  near 
the  dead  body  of  her  friend  with  its  pitiful  lesson, 
that  love — that  is,  the  romantic,  unreasoning  pas-, 
sion  which  is  so  often  called  love — is  nothing  but  a 
base  counterfeit.  She  felt  that  if  love  ruled  the 
world,  it  must  be  the  love  of  God  and  that  love 
which  is  founded  on  respect  and  built  in  unselfish- 
ness. She  could  see  that  a  base,  vile  passion  which 


344       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

has  for  its  only  object  the  gratification  of  bodily 
desire,  was  a  thing  to  fear  and  shun. 

Diantha  had  filled  the  cold,  lifeless  hands  of 
her  dear  friend  with  the  sego-lilies,  wreathing 
them  about  the  neck,  thus  to  hide  the  story  told 
by  the  bandaged  throat;  but  she  saw  how  useless 
in  eternity  would  be  the  least  attempt  to  hide 
away  the  sins  and  shame  of  mankind. 

"Oh,  that  I  could  tear  away  the  lilies,  and  show 
to  every  girl  in  Zion  the  awful  consequences  of 
disobedience  and  vanity,"  she  thought,  as  the 
strong,  vivid  words  of  President  Young  showed 
her  the  darkness  of  the  abyss  into  which  her  own 
eyes  had  for  one  moment  looked  with  fascinated 
gaze. 

"Oh,  that  I  could  set  this  poor,  desecrated  body 
before  every  young  woman  in  Israel,  and  let  it 
preach  its  own  heartrending  sermon !  And  I,  too, 
am  I  not  saved  as  by  fire?  Oh,  my  gracious 
Father,  forgive  me  and  let  a  lifetime  of  repent- 
ance and  faithfulness  prove  to  Thee  how  humble 
and  how  dependent  I  am!"  So  prayed  Diantha, 
as  the  benediction  was  being  pronounced  by  the 
Bishop  in  charge.  While  the  pale  sego-lilies,  with 
their  purple  stains,  drooped  and  died  on  the  breast 
of  the  dead  girl ! 


XXXIX 
THE  WOOING  O'T 

|HREE years  is  but  a  fleeting  season  to  the 
mature,  and  is  as  a  day  to  the  aged ;  but 
to  youth  three  years  stretch  out  with  ap- 
parent never-ending  length.  Three  years 
of  rapid  history  had  been  written  in  Utah  since 
that  vivid  day  in  the  tops  of  the  mountains  when 
A.  O.  Smoot,  Porter  Rockwell  and  Judson  Stod- 
dard  had  brought  to  the  happy  camp  the  terrible 
news  of  the  coming  of  Johnston's  army.  Three 
years!  Camp  Floyd  with  its  surging  life,  its  fre- 
quent deaths,  and  its  story  of  blunder  and  pathos 
had  passed  into  history.  The  site  where  it  once 
stood  now  lay  desolate  and  burning  beneath  the 
hot  summer  sun.  Weeds  covered  the  rude  foun- 
dations of  the  adobe  and  tented  homes,  and  only 
the  lonely  prairie  dog  frequented  the  once  busy 
streets.  The  soldiers  had  departed  to  the  East, 
secession  having  already  begun  to  rear  its  hor- 
rid shape,  and  only  for  the  rich  stores  of  a 
hundred  rare  comforts  which  they  had  sold  in 
their  hurried  departure  for  less  than  a  song, 
would  anyone  remember  their  unhappy  visit. 

Two  years  of  peace  and  plenty  had  built  up  the 
village  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  into  a  modest  in- 


346        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

land  city.  The  trees  along  the  sidewalks  were 
heavy  now  with  July  verdure.  The  busy  hum  of 
industry  throbbed  in  even  beats  along  the  city's 
arteries.  The  blacksmith  whistled  at  his  forge. 
The  well-bucket  creaked  merrily  in  its  frequent 
passage  to  the  cool  waters  beneath,  and  the  chil- 
dren sang  as  they  went  to  and  fro  to  school,  or 
lingered  in  the  shade  of  the  cottonwood  trees.  It 
was  the  evening  before  the  Fourth  of  July,  1860, 
and  the  hands  of  maid  and  matron  were  busy  in 
swift  preparation  for  such  a  celebration  of  local 
peace  and  prosperity  as  had  not  been  theirs  for 
years. 

"Have  you  noticed  what  a  change  there  is  in 
Dian,  the  last  year?"  said  Rachel  Winthrop  to 
Aunt  Clara,  as  the  two  stood  ironing  in  Aunt 
Clara's  cosy  kitchen. 

"How  changed?"  asked  Aunt  Clara. 

"Oh,  she's  so  much  softer  and  sweeter  to  every- 
body, and  she  is  really  making  herself  the  friend 
of  every  poor  girl  in  the  ward.  Why,  I  told  her 
brother  the  other  day  that  Diantha  looked  like 
another  girl ;  she  is  so  changed.  She  wants  to  do 
so  much  for  me,  and  she  is  so  good  to  the  chil- 
dren, and  you  know  that  is  unlike  what  she  used 
to  be.  She  was  not  unkind,  only  indifferent.  She 
didn't  show  me  much  friendship,  even  if  I  was 
her  sister-in-law,  for  I  think  she  thought  herself 
a  little  better  and  smarter  than  I.  But  she  is 
mighty  good  to  me  now,  and  I  love  her  a  thousand 


THE  WOOING  O'T  347 

times  better  for  it,  although  I  always  loved  her 
and  was  proud  of  her." 

"I  don't  find  Diantha  is  changed,"  answered 
Aunt  Clara's  gentle  voice.  "Don't  you  think  that 
it  is  only  that  some  of  her  latent  powers  and  gifts 
are  beginning  to  be  developed?  And  then  she  has 
always  been  a  reserved  young  lady,  and  while 
never  uncivil  or  haughty,  she  is  undemonstrative, 
and  as  young  people  are,  concerned  only  with  life 
as  it  affected  her." 

"Ah,  Aunt  Clara,  you  are  always  thinking  the 
best  of  everybody.  You  never  can  sec  any  fault  in 
any  one." 

"Maybe  I  see  the  fault,  but  I  see  so  much  of  the 
virtue  mixed  up  with  it  that  it  quite  obscures  the 
small  defect.  I  often  think  the  latent  possibilities, 
if  once  they  are  waked  up  in  any  soul,  will  lead  us 
to  eternal  perfection.  It  is  only  that  some  natures 
are  never  awakened ;  but  they  go  on  and  on,  asleep 
in  their  inner  souls,  and  only  the  body  is  awake 
and  alive." 

"Well,  I  have  proved  that  God  will  help  even 
the  weakest  of  us  to  improve  and  get  strong,  if 
we  will  continually  seek  Him  for  help  and  light. 
Of  course,  any  one  as  strong  as  Diantha  will  nat- 
urally be  mighty  good  or  pretty  mean." 

"Well,  to  me  Diantha  has  always  been  one  of 
the  sweetest,  strongest,  and  purest  of  girls.  She 
is  somewhat  impulsive,  but  she  has  such  admi- 
rable control  of  herself,  people  call  it  common- 


348 


sense,  that  she  rarely  does  anything  silly  or  even 
unwise.  And  whoever  saw  her  mean  or  small? 
She  has  had  and  still  has  faults,  but  they  are  like 
her  own  self,  never  small  or  spiteful.  She  loves 
deeply  when  she  does  love.  Out  of  the  fires  of 
affliction,  poor,  proud  motherless  Diantha  is  ris- 
ing to  a  higher,  purer  and  more  consecrated  life. 
The  death  of  Ellen  has  taught  her  to  conform 
her  life  more  to  the  standards  of  Christ  and  less 
to  the  promptings  of  a  self-centered  heart.  She 
will  make  a  grand  woman,  and  a  noble  wife  and 
mother." 

"I  don't  know  about  the  wife  and  mother.  She 
is  twenty-four  now,  and  she  has  refused  at  least 
a  dozen  good,  true  men.  I  think  she  is  going  to 
be  an  old  maid." 

"Not  she!  She  is  waiting  for  a  man  as  great, 
as  noble  and  as  pure-minded  as  herself.  A  great 
many  men,  as  well  as  a  great  many  women,  are 
virtuous  in  action  because  they  fear  society  or 
God's  punishment.  But  Dian  is  pure  in  every 
thought  and  every  act.  Nothing  low  or  vile  could 
so  much  as  reach  her  outer  personality.  She  is 
well-educated  and  as  intelligent  as  a  girl  of  her 
age  could  well  be.  Why  should  she  not  demand 
that  same  exalted  standard  in  her  husband?" 

"Oh,  well,  I  guess  she  will  go  through  the 
woods  and  pick  up  with  a  crooked  stick  at  last, 
as  mother  used  to  tell  us  girls.  Lots  of  our  finest 
girls  marry  men  who,  while  good  enough,  are  in- 


THE  WOOING  O'T  349 

ferior  to  themselves.  I  often  wonder  what  they 
do  it  for?" 

"God  has  some  life  lesson  for  them  to  learn.  The 
Bishop  says  that's  the  way  Nature  evens  up 
things.  What  you  say  is  true  oftentimes,  but  I  am 
not  going  to  have  it  so  of  our  Dian.  The  voice  of 
the  Spirit  has  manifested  to  me  many  times  that 
she  will  have  a  man  as  great  and  as  gifted  as  her- 
self." 

"Say,  talking  of  Dian's  beaus,  they  say  John 
Stevens  will  be  home  sometime  this  week  from  his 
mission  to  Europe.  He  has  been  away  ever  since 
Ellen's  death.  I  thought  at  one  time  he  liked  our 
Dian,  but  I  guess  it  was  Ellen.  He  has  taken 
her  death  very  much  to  heart." 

"John  can  love  more  than  once,  if  he  finds  the 
right  kind  of  a  woman.  He  has  a  soul  as  big  as  all 
eternity.  But  he  grieves  as  deeply  as  he  loves." 

Aunt  Clara  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  several 
evenings  after  this  conversation,  to  see  John  Stev- 
ens step  under  her  doorway;  his  tall  head  reach- 
ing nearly  to  her  doorpost. 

"I  knew  you  would  come  to  see  me  first  thing, 
John,  and  I  am  glad  you  did.  It  does  me  so  much 
good  to  see  you."  And  she  greeted  him  warmly. 

John  sat  down,  his  eyes  somewhat  weary  with 
long  nights  of  wakefulness,  for  he  was  captain  of 
the  company  of  emigrants,  and  his  limbs  were 
worn  with  much  travel  across  the  seas  and  plains. 


350       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"I  knew  you  would  have  some  fried  cakes  and 
milk  for  me  when  I  did  come,  Aunt  Clara.  I  won- 
der if  I  came  for  fried  cakes?"  and  he  laughed  in 
his  low,  soft  undertone,  as  he  held  up  one  of  the 
nutty  brown,  crisp  cakes  to  admire  its  homely 
charm  before  he  tested  it  further. 

"You  have  come,  John,  to  tell  me  all  about  your 
mission,  and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  something 
more.  Rachel  Winthrop  was  in  here  this  after- 
noon, and  we  got  to  talking  about  our  poor  Ellen. 
She  made  a  remark  about  your  grieving  over  El- 
len, and  it  struck  me,  too,  that  you  have  been 
grieving  these  two  long  years.  I  don't  want  you 
to  do  that,  for  Ellie  is  all  right  now,  she  has  paid 
the  penalty  with  her  life.  Now,  John,  that  you 
are  home,  you  must  find  some  good  girl,  and 
marry  and  settle  down.  You  must  be  nearing 
thirty,  and  it  is  very  unusual  for  our  young  men 
to  live  so  long  single." 

John  had  pushed  away  his  plate,  and  left  all  its 
homely  charm,  for  Aunt  Clara's  words  had 
choked  him  with  crowding  memories.  He  sat  still 
for  some  time,  with  his  head  in  his  hands.  Aunt 
Clara  watched  him  as  she  rocked  back  and  forth, 
and  wondered  if  she  had  for  once  been  at  fault. 
After  a  time,  however,  he  raised  his  heacl  and 
said,  with  an  effort  at  lightness : 

"I  am  not  much  of  a  fellow,  Aunt  Clara.  Some- 
times I  do  feel  a  bit  lonely,  and  although  I  have 
enjoyed  my  mission,  the  thought  of  my  home- 


THE  WOOING  O'T  351 

coming  has  been  a  lonely  one,  except  for  you, 
Aunt  Clara." 

"Well,  of  course  you  are  lonesome,  John,  and 
that's  why  I  want  you,  now  that  you  are  home 
from  your  mission,  to  get  married,  and  have  some 
comfort  in  life." 

His  head  was  drooped  again,  between  his  hands, 
and  he  said  slowly : 

"Aunt  Clara,  I  have  been  a  selfish  one-idea 
fellow  in  my  life.  I  deserve  all  your  reproach  and 
my  own  loneliness." 

"Now,  John,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  just  what 
you  mean.  You  have  something  in  your  mind 
which  needs  airing.  What  is  it?" 

"I  mean  that  from  my  earliest  youth  I  have 
loved,  with  all  the  strength  of  my  heart,  a  girl  who 
never  has  and  never  will,  I  fear,  care  anything  for 
me.  For  some  years  I  felt  that  I  could  win  her, 
through  prayer  and  faith,  and  I  hoped  and  was 
happy.  But  I  did  not  succeed.  I  have  tried  to 
hide  my  feelings,  though,  and  I  don't  think  any- 
one has  suspected  me,  unless  it  was  the  girl  her- 
self, occasionally." 

"John,  there  is  a  belongingness  in  love  as  in 
life.  We  are  not  married  by  chance.  I  firmly  be- 
lieve that  each  has  made  covenant  with  his  mate 
in  the  life  before  this.  If  that  girl  belongs  to  you, 
you  will  get  her.  If  not,  you  don't  want  her. 
Who  is  it?" 

"It  is  Dian." 


352       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

He  spoke  with  an  effort,  as  if  it  were  painful 
thus  to  speak  her  name. 

"Oh !"  Aunt  Clara  was  not  much  surprised. 

"What  about  Ellie?"  she  asked. 

"I  loved  Ellen,  but  it  was  not  as  I  love  Dian. 
Maybe  I  have  so  set  my  heart  all  my  life  upon 
getting  Dian  that  I  did  not  give  myself  a  chance 
to  see  other  girls.  Aunt  Clara,  forget  that  I  have 
ever  said  what  I  am  about  to  say;  but  I  had  a 
feeling  that  Ellen  liked  me.  And  I  have  felt  all 
the  remorse  natural  that  I  did  not  save  her  while 
I  could." 

"We  can  always  see  where  we  could  do  better, 
even  in  small  things.  But  no  one  need  destroy  all 
hopes  of  eternity  because  love  is  not  returned  or 
because  a  loved  one  dies.  This  love  plays  such 
mischief,  when  it  is  not  understood  and  gov- 
erned !" 

"Just  so.  I  have  failed  to  conquer  my  love,  and 
it  leaves  me  sore  with  defeat." 

"Why  should  you  conquer  your  love?  Have 
you  ever  asked  Dian  to  have  you?  Diantha  is  a 
noble  girl;  she  is  always  so  strong,  so  sweet,  and 
so  good." 

"Don't  I  know  it?"  almost  groaned  John,  as  he 
pressed  his  hands  across  his  eyes. 

"Look  here,  John,  I  don't  believe  for  one  mo- 
ment that  God  would  let  as  prayerful  a  man  as 
you  waste  years  of  your  life  upon  a  useless  love. 
How  do  you  know  that  Dian  does  not  love  you  as 


THE  WOOING  O'T  353 

well  as  you  love  her?  Oh,  mated  love  is  such  bliss- 
ful, such  divine  joy!" 

John  shook  his  head,  slowly. 

"I  don't  want  to  think,  John  Stevens,  that  you 
are  a  coward.  Go  to  that  girl,  and  tell  her  what 
you  feel,  and  trust  God  for  the  result.  See  here: 
You  go  into  the  front  room,  and  I  will  bring  Dian- 
tha  over  in  two  minutes.  I  will  tell  her  you  are 
in  there,  and  if  she  wants  to  see  you  she  will  go 
in  of  her  own  accord.  If  she  does  not  want  to 
see  you  she  can  easily  refuse  to  go  in,  and  then  I 
hope  you  will  give  her  up  and  put  your  mind  off 
the  subject  at  once  and  forever." 

Aunt  Clara  slipped  out  as  she  said  the  last 
words,  and  John  waited  for  some  time  in  moody, 
unhopeful  silence,  until  he  heard  the  two  voices 
as  they  came  into  the  yard.  He  sprang  up,  and 
put  himself  into  the  dark  front  room,  its  shad- 
ows only  lifted  here  and  there  by  the  moonlight 
through  the  window  casing. 

Through  the  open  door  he  saw  Dian  come  in, 
her  face  aglow  with  a  merry  smile  with  which 
she  listened  to  Aunt  Clara's  soft  tones.  Her 
white  teeth  gleamed  like  even  pearls,  and  her  red 
lips  parted  over  them  in  the  well-remembered 
bewitching  ripples  of  laughter.  Her  bright  eyes 
were  wide  and  uplifted  with  clearest  radiance.  His 
eager  eyes  noted  the  gleam  of  her  yellow  hair, 
parted  above  the  wide,  white  brows,  and  then 
lingered  on  the  rich  rose  upon  her  cheek,  and 

23 


354        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

lighted  upon  the  full,  round  chin,  which  he  said  to 
himself  was  like  a  cleft  rose  bud.  The  tender  white 
throat  rose  up  from  her  proud  shoulders  with  a 
wondrous  grace,  and  her  soft  and  rounded  arms 
were  white  under  the  soft  muslin  sleeve.  She  stood 
a  moment  unconscious  of  any  gaze  or  presence, 
other  than  Aunt  Clara's,  and  he  wondered  with 
a  silent  agony  what  expression  would  sweep  over 
her  expressive  face  when  Aunt  Clara  made  her 
disclosure. 

"Diantha,  John  Stevens  came  home  today." 

The  cheeks  were  drained  of  all  their  beautiful 
color,  but  the  girl's  voice  was  steady  as  she  said 
simply,  "Did  he?" 

"Yes ;  and  he  has  been  here  to  sec  me." 

"Oh !" 

John  did  not  see  the  tense  clasp  of  the  fingers, 
he  saw  only  the  calm  quiet  of  her  face.  Was  it 
the  quiet  of  displeasure? 

He  felt  guilty,  thus  to  watch  her  unconscious 
betrayal  of  self,  but  he  told  himself  savagely  that 
a  man  has  a  right  to  see  the  face  of  his  execu- 
tioner. 

"John  would  like  to  see  you,  Dian."  Aunt  Clara 
waited  a  moment,  then  she  said  quietly :  "He  is  in 
the  front  room.  If  you  would  like  to  see  him,  go 
in  there  and  have  a  talk  with  him." 

The  girl  stood  a  moment,  with  her  tightly 
clasped  hands,  and  her  hesitation  seemed  like  a 
year  of  suspense  to  the  heart  watcnlng  her  from 


THE  WOOING  O'T  355 

the  other  room,  and  then,  with  a  little,  half-troub- 
led smile  upon  her  lips  at  Aunt  Clara,  the  girl 
glided  into  the  other  room,  and,  sheltered  as  well 
as  blinded  by  its  partial  shadows,  she  closed  the 
door  behind  her.  She  was  so  near  the  man  that  her 
muslin  sleeve  rested  upon  his  arm. 

He  felt  suffocated  with  that  blissful  touch,  and 
he  stood,  silent,  wordless,  as  if  deprived  of  the 
powers  of  speech.  She,  too,  felt  his  nearness,  al- 
though she  could  see  nothing,  and  she  stood  un- 
certain which  way  to  go.  Then  she  threw  up  her 
hand  as  if  to  shield  herself,  and  she  touched  his 
cold  cheek,  and  felt  the  silken  mustache  beneath 
her  fingers.  He  snatched  her  hand  and  held  it  to 
his  lips,  its  warmth  and  purity  stilling,  for  a  mo- 
ment, the  trembling  of  his  soul.  At  last  he  took 
it  away,  and  putting  it  upon  his  face,  rested  his 
cheek  within  its  sweet  cup,  as  if  thus  all  sorrow 
were  done  forever.  She  stood  silent,  waiting,  and 
as  voiceless  as  himself. 

This  unbroken,  sweet  encouragement  was  al- 
most more  than  he  could  bear;  he  was  so  unpre- 
pared for  it,  and  it  had  all  come  so  suddenly.  After 
a  moment,  he  reached  out,  and  finding  her  so 
near,  he  laid  his  arm  about  her  waist,  and  as  she 
said  nothing,  he  drew  her  to  him  with  a  close, 
tender  embrace,  and  laying  his  own  face  down 
upon  the  soft  hair,  he  held  her  to  his  throbbing 
heart  in  speechless  bliss. 

Neither  knew  how  long  they    stood    thus,  so 


356       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

perfect  was  their  peace.  At  last,  he  drew  her  face 
up  to  him,  and  whispered  in  her  ear  so  close  that 
his  breath  stirred  all  the  tiny  curls  around  her 
neck: 

"Is  it  love,  dear,  or  sympathy?" 

For  answer,  she  laughed  softly,  and  putting  her 
arms  around  his  neck  of  her  own  accord,  she 
murmured : 

"It  is  my  love,  my  life,  John." 

Words  were  too  weak;  he  drew  her  face  upon 
his  shoulder,  and  in  the  shadowy  silence,  he  put 
his  big,  rough  hand  under  her  rounded  chin,  and 
thus  drawing  up  her  mouth  to  his  own  bent  lips, 
he  told  her  with  that  long,  wordless  caress  all  the 
pent-up  story  of  his  life  and  its  passion.  He  drew 
her  to  the  casement,  and  in  the  flood  of  moon- 
light pouring  in,  he  stood  away  for  a  moment  and 
looked  at  her  with  his  hungry  eyes,  as  if  he  must 
make  sure  if  she  were  real.  He  gloried  in  her 
beauty,  for  he  loved  all  things  beautiful  and  per- 
fect of  their  kind;  and  he  noted  each  gracious 
charm  of  face  and  form  as  he  pinioned  her  arms 
down  that  he  might  hold  her  from  fleeing  away 
from  his  loving  possession. 

"So  strong,  so  sweet,  so  pure,"  he  murmured 
under  his  breath;  "and  all  mine,  mine  for  time 
and  the  long  eternity !" 

She  laughed  again,  a  little,  happy,  yet  modest 
laugh,  as  she  saw  the  gleam  of  adoration  which 
lit  her  lover's  eyes  as  he  gazed  down  upon  her  in 


THE  WOOING  O'T  357 

the  moonlight,  and  then  she  struggled  to  free 
herself,  as  she  remonstrated  softly: 

"You  are  not  to  hold  me  at  arm's  length,  sir." 

For  answer,  he  caught  her  to  him,  and  with  his 
lips  upon  hers,  he  vowed  to  hold  her  in  his  heart 
of  hearts  forever  and  forever. 

Presently,  after  what  seemed  to  them  a  few 
moments  of  silence  and  sweet  peace,  Diantha 
lifted  her  head  from  his  breast,  and  said: 

"Come,  John,  Aunt  Clara  will  wonder  at  our  be- 
ing in  here  without  a  light.  Come,  let  us  go  out 
and  thank  her." 

"Wait  one  moment,  my  girl."  But  she  insisted, 
and  together  they  opened  the  door,  and  stood  with 
modest  assertion  of  their  love  before  their  dearest 
friend. 

John  held  his  arm  around  the  girl,  as  if  fearing 
she  might  change  her  mind  when  once  in  the  light, 
and  observed  by  other  eyes. 

"This  John  of  mine  is  a  queer  John,  Aunt 
Clara,"  said  Diantha,  merrily,  her  breath  quick 
with  the  joy  of  her  expressed  ownership  in  the 
big  fellow  beside  her ;  "he  seems  to  think,  because 
I  am  glad  to  see  him,  that  he  can  domineer  over 
me,  and  he  has  kept  me  in  there  nearly  half  an 
hour,  simply  to  tell  him  that  I  am  glad  he  has  got 
home." 

"Half  an  hour?"  asked  Aunt  Clara,  dryly;  "you 
two  have  shut  yourselves  up  in  there  for  over  two 
hours.  It  's  after  ten  o'clock." 


358       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

"Why,  John  Stevens,  I  am  ashamed  of  you," 
said  the  girl,  with  sparkling  eyes  and  soft  laugh- 
ter. 

"A  man  has  a  right  to  say  how-do-you-do  to 
his  wife,  hasn't  he?"  he  said,  gravely. 

"Oh,  John,  how  could  you?"  breathed  the  girl; 
"how  dare  you  speak  so?  You  haven't  asked  me 
yet." 

"We  will  be  married,  Aunt  Clara,  and,  please 
God,  one  month  from  today." 

"Oh,  you  John !  What  impudence !  Aunt  Clara, 
did  you  ever  see  anything  like  it?  Here  he  has 
never  courted  me  one  bit  in  his  life,  and  never 
even  asked  me  to  marry  him,  and  now  he  takes 
the  law  into  his  own  hands  in  that  way!" 

John  drew  her  closer  to  his  side,  with  his  encir- 
cling arm,  and  looking  down  into  her  eyes,  he 
said: 

"Dear  girl,  I  have  been  courting  you  in  spirit 
all  my  life.  Let  me  have  my  own  way  now,  will 
you  not?" 

His  tone  was  so  gentle,  so  tender,  that  she  an- 
swered softly,  yet  still  half-mischievously : 

"Well,  Aunt  Clara,  I  guess  we  will  have  to  let 
him  have  his  way.  He  is  so  big  that  he  could 
crush  us  both  if  we  didn't  please  him." 

Aunt  Clara's  eyes  were  moist  with  tears,  as  she 
watched  them.  She  rejoiced  in  their  love,  and  she 
was  content  that  she  had  helped  a  little.  But  as 
they  started  out  of  the  door  to  leave  her,  and 


THE  WOOING  O'T  359 

Diantha  came  back  to  kiss  her  once  more  in  token 
of  love  and  gratitude,  Aunt  Clara's  heart  flew 
back  to  their  lost  Ellie,  and  all  the  sad,  miserable 
story.  She  went  to  the  door  and  watched  them 
go  out  of  the  gate,  Diantha  still  full  of  bubbling 
mischief,  with  her  quick,  pretty  gestures  of  teas- 
ing indifference  as  she  refused  even  to  take  John's 
arm  in  the  bright  moonlight — it  all  brought  back 
her  Ellie's  love  for  this  same  good  man,  and  she 
turned  back  into  her  room  with  sobs  in  her  throat ; 
and  then  she  knelt  in  silent  prayer  for  these  two 
who  had  gone  out  from  her  home  to  their  blessed 
future. 

As  Diantha  Winthrop  herself  knelt  that  night 
in  her  evening  prayer,  she  poured  out  the  wealth 
of  her  young  heart  in  gratitude  to  God  who  had 
so  magnified  her  life  and  its  mission.  After  her 
prayer,  she  sat  at  her  window  and  thought  back 
on  all  the  past,  and  she  wondered  anew  that  she 
could  ever  have  called  her  lover  cold,  reserved  or 
silent.  His  every  look  was  pregnant  with  thought, 
and  his  presence  was  full  of  unspoken  meanings. 
She  could  see  how  in  her  ignorant,  thoughtless 
girlhood  she  could  not  appreciate  him,  as  she 
could  not  appreciate  the  deep  throbbing  poems 
in  the  Bible  until  life  opened  them  and  sorrow 
put  into  her  hand  the  secret  key  to  their  mysteries. 

She  had  grown  up  to  John  now,  and  she  won- 
dered how  it  was  that  she  could  ever  have  per- 
mitted ordinary  men  to  come  near  her.  He  was  a 


360       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

king!  Proud,  intelligent,  pure!  With  the  wide- 
open  eyes  of  experience,  she  recognized  his  match- 
less manhood  and  bowed  down  in  mighty  prayer 
that  she  might  prove  worthy  of  his  love. 


XL 

JOHN  BUILDS  A  HOME 

HHAT  was  a  busy  month,  and  everybody 
in  the  neighborhood  insisted  on  doing 
something  for  the  coming  wedding. 
John  bought  a  lot  not  far  from  Aunt 
Clara's  home,  and  although  it  had  only  one  log 
room  on  it  for  a  house,  he  soon  had  a  large  front 
room  added  to  it,  and  he  put  up  a  small  lean-to  for 
kindlings  and  wood.    He  did  not  propose,  he  said 
to  himself,  that  his  wife  should  have  an  unnec- 
essary step  to  walk,  and  with  that  same  thought, 
he  dug  a  new  well  close  to  the  kitchen  door. 

He  put  a  good  paling  fence  in  front  of  the 
house,  and  promised  himself  that  he  would  very 
soon  replace  the  brush  fence  on  the  south  side  of 
the  lot  with  a  new  one,  to  match  the  front. 

How  many  times  he  peeped  into  the  large  front 
room,  with  its  new,  white  pine  floor,  and  its  huge 
fire-place,  and  wondered  how  he  could  wait  until 
the  days  were  gone  and  Dian  was  there  to  fill  every 
nook  and  corner  with  radiance.  He  wished  he  had 
time  to  pull  down  the  old  part  and  put  up  an 
adobe  room,  but  that  must  needs  wait  for  the  fu- 
ture. He  planted,  with  patient  care,  several  vines 
around  the  front  "door  stoop,"  for  he  knew  Dian 


362        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

loved  flowers  and  green  things.  And  with  what 
infinite  pleasure  at  the  last,  he  watched  the  put- 
ting down  of  carpets,  bright  new  rag  ones,  that 
Dian  and  her  sister-in-law  and  other  friends  had 
been  busy  getting  made  for  the  happy  time  of  her 
wedding  day.  She  and  Aunt  Clara  came  a  day  or 
so  before  the  wedding  and  cleaned  everything  to 
spotless  whiteness. 

In  the  window  Dian  hung  simple,  unbleached 
muslin  curtains  with  crocheted  edge,  which  she 
had  spent  many  days  in  bleaching.  But  they  still 
retained  enough  of  the  original  creamy  tint  to 
soften  the  plastered  walls  of  shining  white.  Un- 
der one  window  Dian  set  a  small  pine  table,  paint- 
ed red  in  imitation  of  mahogany,  which  held  her 
three  only  books,  one  her  Bible,  a  beloved  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  a  prized  copy  of  Shakespeare,  which 
had  in  some  way  come  into  her  possession.  Un- 
der the  other  window  was  a  square  box,  which 
John  had  fitted  with  hinges  and  a  good  lid,  and 
Dian  had  stuffed  the  lid  top  with  wool  and  then 
covered  it  with  a  pretty  piece  of  cotton  print  and 
had  hung  a  valence  of  the  print  around  under  the 
lid.  This  made  a  comfortable  seat,  and  that  was 
necessary,  as  chairs  were  rare  and  expensive.  In- 
side the  box-seat  she  had  folded  her  modest  store 
of  linen. 

Over  the  huge  fireplace  John  had  put  a  low, 
broad  mantle,  and  Dian  set  upon  the  shelf  her 
precious  clock,  which  was  one  of  the  few  things 


JOHN  BUILDS  A  HOME  363 

owned  by  her  mother  that  she  now  possessed.  On 
each  side  of  the  clock  were  two  brass  candle- 
sticks polished  like  gold,  and  filled  with  tall,  yel- 
low tallow  candles.  Most  precious  of  all  prized 
treasures,  John  had  bought  the  small  melodion 
from  Bishop  Winthrop,  who  was  now  in  posses- 
sion of  a  new  organ  for  his  music-loving  family. 
John  loved  the  dear  old  melodion,  out  of  whose 
slender  case  his  beloved  young  wife  would  weave 
great  color  waves  of  sound  and  harmony;  while 
to  him  alone  she  would  now  sing  "Kathleen,  mav- 
ourneen,  the  day  dawn  is  breaking!"  Ah,  how  he 
loved  music  and  beauty  and  love !  No  one  but  God 
knew  how  he  loved  them ! 

A  few  chairs,  the  old-fashioned  bed  in  the  cor- 
ner, a  box  which  they  called  a  trunk,  and  which 
had  also  an  edged  cover  of  white  to  hide  its  plain 
look,  and  the  modest  room  was  furnished.  John 
had  filled  in  the  fire-place  with  spicy  evergreens 
from  the  canyons,  and  he  had  searched  the  hills 
for  the  last  columbines,  which  stood  on  the  mantle 
shelf,  their  creamy  whiteness  falling  into  the 
bright  color  tone  of  the  pretty  room. 

As  John  stood  within  its  sacred  precincts  the 
night  before  he  was  to  be  married,  he  thought 
how  the  glorious  presence  of  his  beautiful  wife 
would  make  it  a  haven  of  rest  and  happiness.  He 
walked  into  the  neat  kitchen,  and  noted  how. 
carefully  Dian  had  arranged  their  scanty,  pioneer 
store  of  dishes,  three  plates,  three  cups  and  sau- 


364       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

cers,  three  bowls  and  a  vegetable  dish — all  these 
had  been  placed  up  in  brave  show  against  the 
board  he  had  nailed  at  the  back  of  the  shelves. 
The  small  cook-stove,  called  a  "step  stove,"  he 
was  especially  proud  of,  for  it  was  a  great  luxury 
in  those  days.  It  shone  with  a  brilliant  lustre,  and 
the  few  pots  and  pans  belonging  to  it  were  hung 
upon  the  wall  behind  the  stove  with  housewifely 
precision.  He  bent  his  face  over  the  flowers  in 
the  kitchen  windows,  and  whispered  to  himself 
that  the  delicate  pinks  were  like  Dian's  cheeks, 
and  their  perfume  was  her  breath. 

As  he  finished  his  survey,  he  turned  into  the 
front  room,  and  kneeling  down,  he  offered,  for  the 
last  time,  his  lonely  evening  prayer.  He  prayed 
that  God  would  make  him  gentle,  and  worthy  of 
such  happiness,  while  he  asked  earnestly  for  the 
strength  to  love  his  religion  well  enough  to  put 
God  first,  and  wife  and  home  after.  But  even  as 
he  prayed,  the  voice  of  inspiration  whispered  in 
his  soul,  that  wife  and  home,  if  rightly  understood, 
are  religion,  and  God  was  pleased  with  the  man 
who  could  be  worthy  of  them. 


XLI 

DIANTHA  ENTERS 

F  time  permitted,  it  would  be  pleasant  to 
tell  of  the  merry  wedding,  and  of  the 
delicately  mocking  charm  with  which 
Diantha  held  her  lover  at  arm's  length, 
all  that  long,  happy  day.  She  was  as  winsome  as 
a  sprite,  and  as  elusive.  She  had  a  thousand  ex- 
cuses to  leave  him  to  his  own  devices,  after  they 
had  returned  from  the  early  morning  wedding  in 
the  Endowment  House.  She  must  see  to  the  din- 
ner, for  they  were  all  at  Aunt  Clara's,  who  had 
insisted  on  getting  the  wedding  dinner.  So  John 
folded  his  arms,  after  she  had  slipped  from  them 
at  last,  and  quietly  sat  down  by  the  window  to 
read  his  book.  She  might  go,  she  could  never  get 
away  from  him  now,  he  reflected  with  a  thrill  of 
delight,  and  he  could  well  afford  to  wait  for  her 
sure  return. 

Dian  peeped  in  occasionally  to  see  if  he  was  all 
right,  for  the  company  would  be  there  soon,  she 
said,  and  she  was  very  anxious  to  see  if  his  collar 
and  necktie  were  perfectly  straight.  She  came  in, 
as  she  found  that  he  did  not  seem  to  notice  her, 
and  playfully  ordered  him  to  arise  and  let  her  see 
if  he  was  in  perfect  trim.  He  arose  at  her  bidding, 


366        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

and  stood  looking  quizzically  down  upon  her,  as 
she  took  a  number  of  unnecessary  minutes  to  ar- 
range the  already  faultless  collar  and  tie  under 
the  long  beard.  His  eyes  burned  down  into  her 
uplifted,  mocking  blue  orbs,  but  he  said  nothing, 
nor  did  he  offer  to  touch  her. 

"I  am  very  glad,  Mr.  John,  that  you  have 
learned  to  keep  your  arms  from  around  me,  for  at 
least  this  afternoon,  for  you  will  have  to  learn, 
you  great,  big,  awkward  John,  that  muslin  dresses 
are  not  to  be  shaken,  nor  are  they  to  be  taken  in 
such  careless  hands  as  these,"  and  she  held  his 
unresisting  hand  a  moment,  then  deftly  put  it 
about  her  waist. 

He  stooped  down,  and  kissed  her  gravely  upon 
the  tender,  red  mouth,  as  if  he  found  it  impossible 
to  resist  his  own  forever. 

Then  she  drew  back,  and  with  a  sudden  as- 
sumption of  dignity  she  said,  "Don't  you  know 
that  it  is  very  rude  to  kiss  a  lady,  unless  you  have 
properly  courted  her,  and  she  has  promised  to 
marry  you?" 

He  laughed  out  of  his  eyes  at  her,  and  fell  to 
stroking  his  long  beard  in  the  way  she  remem- 
bered so  well. 

"Now,  I  am  going  to  stay  right  here,  Mr.  John, 
to  punish  you  for  not  seeming  glad  to  see  me 
just  now." 

She  sat  down  for  a  moment,  but  as  John  made 
as  if  to  take  her  in  his  arms  she  sprang  up,  and 


DIANTHA  ENTERS  367 

with  a  sudden  elusive  gesture,  she  put  out  her 
pretty  toe  from  the  front  of  her  dress,  and  made 
him  a  deep  curtsy,  saying  mockingly : 

"The  lady  must  away  to  spread  the  feast  of — 
well,  not  reason — but  beef  and  chickens,  and  to 
thus  assist  the  flow  of — well,  not  soul,  but  small 
talk.  Adieu,"  and  she  swept  him  another  low 
bow,  and  tripped  to  the  door,  where  she  paused  a 
moment,  and  turning  back  she  tossed  him  a  pretty 
kiss  from  the  pink  tips  of  her  dainty  fingers,  as  she 
laughed:  "None  but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair," 
and  was  gone. 

They  had  refused  to  have  a  dancing  party,  for 
both  had  still  a  deep,  painful  remembrance  of 
the  friend  they  had  both  loved  and  lost,  and  noth- 
ing but  a  simple  gathering  of  the  immediate  fam- 
ily would  they  invite.  As  they  left  Aunt  Clara's 
door  that  night  after  every  guest  had  departed, 
Aunt  Clara  put  her  hands  on  their  two  shoulders, 
and  with  a  silent  tear  in  her  eyes,  she  bade  them, 
"Be  true  to  God  and  each  other,"  and  they  were 
alone  at  last  with  their  wedded  love  and  its  pure, 
exquisite,  heaven-ordained  bliss. 

Dian  walked  very  primly  down  the  midnight 
streets  with  her  young  husband,  refusing  to  al- 
low him  to  attempt  to  put  his  arm  about  her  waist. 

"You  know  it  is  exceedingly  bad  taste  for  peo- 
ple to  show  any  affection  in  public;  and  even  if 
you  were  to  offer  as  an  excuse  that  it  is  very  late 
and  no  one  is  about,  you  remember  that  as  chil- 


368       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

dren  we  have  learned  that  we  must  do  what  is 
right  whether  there  is  any  one  to  look  at  us  or 
not.  Eh?" 

John  assented,  allowing  her  to  place  the  mer- 
est finger  tip  on  his  arm,  and  he  walked  gravely 
down  the  moonlit  streets  between  Aunt  Clara's 
house  and  their  own  dear  little  home,  which  they 
were  about  to  enter  for  the  first  time  together. 

Dian  chatted  and  laughed  nervously,  asking  and 
answering  all  sorts  of  questions,  sometimes  put- 
ting into  John's  mouth  words  he  never  would  have 
uttered,  for  she  said  if  he  would  not  talk  for  him- 
self she  must  do  the  talking  for  both.  Presently 
they  reached  their  own  lowly  gate ;  and  he  gravely 
held  open  the  little  wicket,  for  her  to  pass 
through.  She  stood  with  beating  heart  and  quiet 
lips  upon  the  small  porch,  while  he  unlocked  the 
newly  painted  front  door.  And  then  she  stood 
just  inside  the  door,  still  silent,  while  John  found 
and  lighted  the  two  candles  on  the  mantle. 

Then  with  a  quizzical  look  in  the  keen  loving 
eyes,  he  said,  softly:  "Sister  Stevens,  will  you 
come  in  and  take  possession  of  your  home?" 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  heard  herself 
so  called,  and  she  felt  overpowered  by  all  the 
blessed  happiness  the  name  implied.  She  stood  a 
moment,  and  then  put  up  her  hands  to  cover  the 
tears  which  would  fill  and  overflow  her  eyes.  The 
big  fellow  beside  her  waited  a  moment  also,  as  if 
to  make  sure  of  the  source  of  all  these  tears,  and 


DIANTHA  ENTERS  369 

then  he  put  his  hand  gently  upon  her  shoulder  and 
whispered,  "You  are  not  sorry,  dear?" 

"Oh,  John,"  she  sobbed,  throwing  her  arms 
close  about  his  neck,  "I'm  so  happy  that  I  must 
cry.  Don't  mind,  it  is  only  that  I  am  so  grateful 
to  God  for  you  and  your  dear  love.  To  think, 
John,  that  I  am  yours,  your  true  wife,  for  time  and 
for  all  eternity,"  and  she  sighed  with  a  happy, 
half-sobbing  sigh,  as  she  ceased  her  crying,  and 
drew  his  face  down  to  her  own  that  she  might 
kiss  him  on  the  lips,  she  said,  to  begin  her  mar- 
ried life  aright,  giving  him  always,  first  and  last, 
her  best  loving  devotion. 

Then  Dian  opened  the  lid  of  her  little  organ, 
and  played  an  evening  hymn,  while  John  watched 
her  shining  eyes  and  tender  mouth  as  she  offered 
up  for  them  both  a  hymnal  of  praise  in  their  new 
home.  After  the  last  note  they  both  bowed  in 
solemn  prayer  before  the  Throne  of  Grace! 


24 


XLII 
HOME,  SWEET  HOME 

a  HE  next  morning,  Diantha  began  at  once 
with    housewifely    care    to    clean    and 
sweep    her    treasured    dwelling.        She 
scrubbed  the  kitchen  floor,  already  white 
and  new;  she  polished  the  shining  brass  candle- 
sticks;   she    scoured   the   new   tins,   and   as   she 
worked  she  sang  with  gay  abandon.     There  was 
song  in  her  heart,  and  it  could  not  but  bubble  up 
to  her  lips. 

These  small  chores  were  done  all  too  soon ;  then 
she  dusted  and  arranged  her  modest  belongings  in 
the  dainty  "front  room."  After  everything  was 
carefully  "put  to  rights,"  she  looked  with  the  hap- 
py eyes  of  ownership  at  the  box,  a  plain,  darkly- 
painted  one,  which  had  come  clear  from  New 
England  to  Nauvoo,  and  which  held  all  her  hus- 
band's belongings.  She  would  go  through  that, 
she  said  to  herself,  and  see  if  there  were  any  little 
bits  of  mending  to  do,  for  of  course  John  had  no 
mother  to  take  care  of  his  things. 

She  found  everything  folded  with  as  exquisite 
neatness  and  care  as  she  herself  could  have  given 
them,  and  in  the  small  wooden  "till"  she  discov- 
ered many  a  little  treasure.  There  were  his  small 
Bible  and  Book  of  Mormon,  which  he  always 
carried  when  out  on  his  trips,  with  a  small  rubber 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME  371 

cup,  also  one  of  his  traveling  necessities.  There 
was  a  box  of  needles,  pins,  and  cotton  which  Dian 
appropriated  gleefully,  whispering  to  her  own 
happy  heart  that  her  dear  John  should  never  need 
to  put  them  to  use  again.  She  carefully  brushed 
and  folded  away  all  the  modest  stores  of  clothing, 
and  then  she  came  to  a  small  packet,  on  the  bot- 
tom of  the  trunk,  and  wrapped  up  in  a  paper 
which  was  marked  "Private." 

It  never  occurred  to  Dian,  for  she  was  not  much 
of  a  novel-reader,  that  there  was  anything  mys- 
terious in  the  packet ;  she  knew  her  lover  husband 
too  well.  She  laid  that  out  on  the  stand  under  the 
window,  for  she  wanted  John,  himself,  to  show 
her  all  its  contents,  and  she  knew  he  would. 

Ah,  the  happiness  of  that  morning,  for  that 
blessed  girl !  Who  could  portray  the  bliss  of  her 
soul!  It  was  a  simple  thing,  the  opening  of  a 
homely  box,  filled  with  homely  articles,  but  they 
were  the  precious  belongings  of  the  one  man  in  all 
creation  to  that  girl-wife,  and  she  felt  that  the  lit- 
tle act,t  simple  as  it  was,  represented  her  taking 
formal  possession  of  John  and  all  that  he  could 
ever  own.  He  was  hers  now,  as  perfectly  as  she 
was  his. 

John  came  in  and  found  her  on  the  floor,  still 
dreaming  over  her  future. 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  John,  I  have  just  been  looking  over  all 
your  things;  and  I  am  so  happy." 


372       JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

John  did  not  exactly  see  what  there  was  in  so 
little  a  thing  as  that  to  give  her  so  much  joy,  but 
saying  nothing,  as  usual,  he  sat  down  and  held  out 
his  arms  for  her  to  come  to  him.  Then  she 
brought  the  little  packet,  and  with  one  of  his 
quiet  smiles,  John  unwrapped  the  little  parcel  and 
showed  her  his  choicest  treasures. 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  held  up  a 
small,  rather  indistinct  daguerreotype  of  herself 
and  Ellen  with  their  arms  fixed  primly  around 
each  other. 

"I  remember  that,"  and  her  eyes  streamed  with 
sad  tears  in  memory  of  Ellen.  "I  have  one  just 
like  it.  How  did  you  get  one?  Aunt  Clara  has 
Ellie's." 

"I  bought  it,"  laconically  answered  John. 

Dian  cried  a  moment,  and  then  he  gave  her  the 
four  letters  he  had  put  away  as  the  most  precious 
of  all  his  keepsakes.  There  was  one  from  the 
Prophet  Joseph  Smith  to  his  dead  father,  one 
from  President  Brigham  Young  to  himself,  one 
from  his  sainted  mother,  and  a  tiny  little  note  of 
her  own,  written  when  she  was  only  a  girl  of 
fourteen. 

"Why,  John,  what  on  earth  have  you  kept  that 
little  scrawling  note  for?  I  can  just  remember 
writing  it  to  you  in  school  one  day,  in  answer  to 
your  own  written  invitation  to  go  to  a  party." 

"It  is  the  only  line  you  ever  wrote  to  me,  how 
can  I  help  keeping  it?" 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME  373 

"John,"  she  said,  facing  him  and  looking  him  in 
the  eyes,  "do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  liked 
me  away  long  ago,  when  I  was  a  little  girl?" 

He  had  never  told  her  the  story  which  he  had 
confided  to  Aunt  Clara.  So  he  did  not  answer 
at  once,  but  at  length  said,  in  his  most  drawling 
fashion : 

"Do  you  think  I  would  ask  a  girl  to  go  to  a 
party  if  I  did  not  like  her?" 

"Now,  John  dear,  you  are  not  going  to  bother 
me  in  that  way.  I  want  you  to  tell  just  how  long 
you  have  liked  me,  you  know,  loved  me,  in  a  real- 
ly truly  way?" 

It  seemed  to  cost  John  a  little  effort  to  answer, 
for  he  loved  silence,  especially  when  he  was  put 
upon  the  witness  stand.  However,  he  answered 
at  last,  taking  her  face  between  his  hands  as  he 
spoke,  and  kissing  both  pink  cheeks : 
'  "I  think  I  have  loved  you,  sweetheart,  since  we 
sang  together  with  the  morning  stars  and  shouted 
in  unison  with  our  companions  when  the  founda- 
tions of  this  earth  were  laid." 

"But  on  this  earth,  John;  what  about  this 
earth?" 

"Well,  I  can  hardly  answer.  If  you  were  to  ask 
me  when  I  did  not  love  you,  I  could  tell  you — 
never.  Ever  since  I  saw  you,  a  tiny,  silver-haired 
tot  of  a  girl,  I  felt  that  you  were  apart  and  sep- 
arate from  everything  human  for  me,  and  I  loved 
you." 


374        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

John,  with  his  every-day  clothes  on,  was  out  in 
the  lot  daily  that  fall,  plowing  and  planting  for  his 
little  wife.  He  said  little.  John  never  was  a 
talker;  but  he  proved  by  his  constant  labors  that 
no  unnecessary  task  should  be  put  upon  the  slen- 
der hands  of  his  wife.  Wood,  kindlings — why, 
Diantha  used  to  laugh  and  say  that  John  was  get- 
ting in  a  supply  to  last  five  years.  Gentle  assist- 
ance also  he  often  silently  rendered  in  her  many 
household  tasks.  She  used  to  order  him  away,  but 
he  knew  the  feet  must  get  weary,  after  a  hard 
day's  work ;  and  Diantha  had  much  to  do,  to  spin, 
weave,  color  and  prepare  their  clothes  for  the 
coming  winter.  Outside  her  door,  the  yard  was 
packed,  and  wetted  dov/n,  and  swept,  until  Di- 
antha declared  she  could  trail  her  wedding  dress 
over  it  without  harm. 

It  was  amusing  to  see  him  out  at  his  work,  driv- 
ing his  team  across  and  around  the  lot ;  and  then, 
when  Diantha  came  out,  as  she  very  often  did, 
singing  as  she  came,  he  would  stop  and  look  over 
at  her  with  a  gleam  of  rapturous  love  in  his  eyes, 
while  he  would  wait  until  she  threw  the  dainty 
kiss  she  was  sure  to  toss  before  she  went  inside 
the  house.  Sometimes  he  could  not  resist  the 
spell,  and  tying  up  his  team  he  would  saunter  af- 
ter her,  and  once  at  the  door,  stand  wiping  his 
brow  meditatively. 

"John  Stevens,"  she  would  cry,  "what  have  you 
left  your  work  for,  and  what  do  you  want,  sir?" 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME  375 

And  then  he  would  go  up,  and  putting  his  hand 
under  her  chin,  he  would  draw  up  her  face  to  his 
own  bent  lips  and  kiss  her  saucy  red  lips,  while 
he  said  sometimes,  in  answer  to  her  mocking  ques- 
tion, "I  only  want  to  look  at  my  wife." 

Then  she  would  be  silenced,  for  that  sweet 
word  "wife"  always  poured  over  her  soul  such  a 
flood  of  happiness  that  she  could  not  speak  for 
a  time.  At  other  times  John  would  beg  his  wife 
to  sing  him  one  song,  or  to  thread  a  tune  on  the 
mystic  ivory  keys,  and  he  would  let  his  soul  go 
out  to  God  and  his  wife  on  the  sound-waves  that 
beat  upon  his  throbbing  breast.  Ah,  John  had 
much  to  thank  God  for,  and  he  knew  it! 

One  Sabbath  day,  as  usual,  they  both  dressed 
in  their  simple,  homely  best,  and  together  walked 
up  to  the  Tabernacle ;  Diantha  felt  as  if  she  were 
walking  upon  air.  She  looked  up  at  her  big,  sober, 
gentle,  masterful  and  yet  tender  husband,  and  she 
knew  there  was  not  his  superior  in  all  Zion.  How 
proudly  she  sat  in  the  congregation  while  John 
paced  his  slow  way  to  the  stand,  for  he  had  lately 
been  appointed  to  an  important  position  in  the 
Church.  Her  heart  echoed  every  word  of  the  ring- 
ing homely  hymn,  "Do  What  Is  Right,"  and  she 
thanked  God  that  she  had  been  helped  by  His 
matchless  power  to  follow  the  simple  but  noble 
advice. 

Elder  Orson  Pratt,  who  spoke,  dwelt  upon  some 
of  the  peculiar  beliefs  of  the  Saints,  and  then 


376        JOHN  STEVENS'  COURTSHIP 

launched  out  upon  the  great  topic  of  marriage, 
and  spoke  with  mighty  power  upon  the  eternity 
of  the  marriage  covenant.  Diantha's  heart  swelled 
with  rapture  to  know  that  she  and  John  had  been 
sealed  by  the  power  and  authority  of  the  Priest- 
hood for  time  and  for  all  eternity.  And  to  think 
that  three  short  months  ago  she  had  been  so  full 
of  grave  misgivings  as  to  whether  John  would 
ever  seek  her  again,  for  he  had  made  no  sign  for 
the  two  whole  years  of  his  missionary  life !  How 
she  had  grown  in  these  two  years,  to  love  the 
sound  of  his  slow,  drawling  voice,  the  glance  of 
his  keen,  beautiful,  yet  gentle  eyes.  How  ardent- 
ly she  listened  to  the  mere  mention  of  his  name  by 
others.  She  would  sit  with  her  heart  all  a-tremble 
if  his  name  were  being  discussed.  And  now  to 
think  he  was  all  her  own!  For  time  and  for  all 
eternity !  Oh,  God,  what  bliss  divine ! 

The  speaker  touched  upon  the  privileges  of  par- 
ents who  bear  children  under  the  new  and  ever- 
lasting covenant.  What  a  thrill  of  joy  swept 
over  her  as  she  thought  that  she  would  some  day 
be  mother  to  John's  children!  Her  heart  almost 
ceased  its  beating  for  a  moment,  it  was  so  new  and 
so  beautiful  to  think  of.  She  looked  up  at  John 
as  the  thought  came,  and  he  must  have  been  led 
to  the  same  reflection,  for  he  had  turned  from 
the  speaker  and  was  looking  at  her  with  a  love  in 
his  eyes  which  she  could  see  from  where  he  sat; 
and  she  colored,  half  with  joy,  half  with  modest 


HOME,  SWEET  HOME  377 

shrinking,  as  she  dropped  her  eyes  and  sat  still 
for  a  moment. 

"John,"  she  said,  as  they  were  walking  home  at 
noon,  "what  a  beautiful  sermon  Brother  Pratt 
preached  this  morning." 

"Yes,"  assented  John. 

"And,  John,  what  a  happy  thought,  that  I — that 
we — that— I,  that—" 

John  could  not  speak,  he  was  too  full  of  emotion 
to  say  a  word;  but  when  they  had  entered  their 
own  door,  and  closed  themselves  from  the  gaze 
of  the  public,  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  held 
her  close  to  his  own  throbbing  heart,  and  said  in 
her  ear,  "The  mother  of  my  children.  For  time 
and  in  all  eternity." 

Let  us  leave  them  now.  We  like  the  last  view 
of  our  friends  to  be  the  brightest  and  best.  This 
much,  however,  must  be  told,  that  John  and  Di- 
antha  are  as  happy  today,  although  in  the  whit- 
ened years  of  old  age  and  long  experience,  as  they 
were  in  those  early  days  of  their  newly  wedded 
love. 

One  day  when  I  asked  John  to  tell  me  about 
his  courting  days,  he  answered  gravely,  putting 
his  arms  around  the  motherly  shoulders  of  his 
wife: 

"Why,  I  have  just  begun  to  court  my  wife.  It 
takes  a  man  a  long  time  to  get  ready,  and  then 
the  courting,  to  be  well  done,  must  never  end,  but 
continue  throughout  the  long  eternities." 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  047  291     o 


